


Blink and You'll Miss It

by Happy_Cloud



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Graphic Description, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Cloud/pseuds/Happy_Cloud
Summary: Since Hamilton moved into their lives two years ago everyone found him a little odd. From his work ethic to his attitude, but mostly it was the little unexplainable things that usually went ignored. Unfortunately for Alexander, some events are too odd to be forgotten.





	1. Seamingly Strange

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal. It’s just a dance.” They were inside the Revolutionary Arcade due to the frigid temperatures taking hold outside. Cosmic stained carpet blanketed the floors as well as the walls, and the building itself was old and as busted as a New York bar on the bad side of town.

“Of course you wouldn’t mon amie, you’ve never been to an American school organized dance.” The French boy said this as he swung his cup of root beer in the air after he wrapped an arm around him.

Another boy, this time with wild curly hair, plastered himself to the other side of the first boy. “Come on Alexander, it’ll be fun. Think of it: food, girls, jams. Why not go?”

Alex pushed himself out of the grip of his two friends. “Because it’s a waste of time and money. I could be reading a new article or writing a response to one. And John, why the hell would you care about the girls? You’re gay.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Don’t change the subject! You cannot stay inside and wait for a new political story to be released and then fight about it on Twitter every night!”

“Laf is right Alexander, it just isn’t healthy.” The boy who said this was bigger than the rest but held his cup with a careful steady hand. He had a deep voice but kept it low and even as contrast to his other two friends whose voices filled the almost empty establishment.

“Really Hercule? You’re siding with them?”

Hercules nodded and looked over his friends. Even after being pushed away John sat a bit _too_ close to Alex and Lafayette was smirking at the sight or his next idea. Their local Frenchman took Alexander by his shoulders, so he faced John. “If you do not go for the lovely ladies,” Lafayette leaned in close to the shell of his ear, “then you should go for the gentlemen, no?”

John’s attention immediately fell to his cup and Alex held a strong straight face only betrayed by the slight bit of red on his cheeks. “Even if I wanted to go for the gentlemen there is still the matter of the money and what I have to wear. Which is nothing.” He threw his head back to down the rest of his drink and went to get up.

“Dude, the fee to get in is fifteen dollars. I think we can spot you,” John said as he put a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder. 

“I’m sure our resident marinière can help you out in the clothing department,” Lafayette said gesturing to Hercules.

“Unless he has an extra suit lying around I don’t think that’s going to work. Angelica told me it was called the winter’s ball because everyone goes all out.”

Hercules swirled his cup slowly and thought back to his collection at home. “I can see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises.” He pushed out his chair and got up with the rest of his friends.

“Excellent I will get the tickets tomorrow!”

From that night it was only a week until the ball and the group found it impossible to find Alexander a good fitted suit. He would always say they were too expensive and when Laf or John offered to rent him a suit he would adamantly turn them down. They stopped after the fifth shop when the salesman told Alex that he would need a child’s size for his height leading to a screaming match and the short boy stomping away in frustration.

Hercules sat hunched over his desk the day before the ball coloring in his sketchbook full of new dress designs. Floral was due for a comeback and spring was only a couple months away, so he wanted to get at least eight new designs done. At the moment he only had five, but his biggest problem was choosing the proper color coordination-- 

_Mmm whatcha say~_

“Fuck.” Hercules picked up his phone. “Yes, Alexander?”

“Uh, hey man. I... found a suit.” He sounded slightly out of breath.

“Oh really? That’s cool man, you can come over tomorrow, so I can adjust it. It won’t be perfect, but-”

“Could we actually do it tonight?”

He ignored his friend’s constant cutoffs and glanced at his bedside clock. “Dude, I would love to, but it’s snowing, and it takes a half an hour for you to-”

“I’m already here.”

He sighed and let Alexander in his house and lead him to his room. “You ran all the way here in the snow?”

“Running would be a bit of an exaggeration, but I got here,” Alex answered.

Hercules studied him for a moment. Alexander’s expression didn’t look like he was trying to hide something, but his face wasn’t red from running or the cold. His clothes and hair also looked completely dry. The most interesting thing was that the suit itself looked like it was made for a man with a lot of money. Hercules shrugged and knelt down to take measurements. “So, where did you get this?”

“Consignment store. They just got new shipment.”

“At twelve in the morning?”

“I got it for a great price.”

“I’m not sure how seeing as this is a brand-new Brunello Cucenelli suit.” Very new. As if it was just made and tailored to its previous owner. “You got a boutineer?”

“A what?”

“The flower on the jacket. It’s a very nice purple iris.” It looked to be fresh, but a little crumpled as if it was fiddled with carelessly. Upon further inspection Hercules also noticed the matching blue Cucenelli undershirt along with a silk striped blue tie and matching handkerchief. “You’re not going to tell me where you actually got this suit, are you?”

“I already told you where I got it.”

Alterations took several hours, but it was mostly a matter of hemming. They talked a bit about one of Alex’s new essays and Hercules told him about his new collection. After they were done Alexander left for the library and Hercules decided to get a couple of hours of sleep.

“You look like shit, son,” Hercules’ dad said when he sat down for breakfast in the morning.

“Late night. Anything interesting going on in the world?” He poured himself a bowl of cereal.

“Naw not really. Everyone is going nuts over this old guys death. Names Benjamin Franklin.”

He looked up to the television to the extensive report going over every facet of the older gentleman’s life. From the old camera footage, he looked to be a short man who was pretty heavy, but lost weight dramatically in his last weeks.  

“You know, you should really give up this fashion thing in favor of something more in tune to your body type like construction or football,” his father went on.

Hercules grunted not looking at his father in favor of paying attention to the long eulogy for a man he was sure Alex would rave about when they met up for school. “Franklin was buried at Christ Church in Philadelphia yesterday afternoon.” The reporter droned on, “what we have here is his supposedly last picture secretly taken at his open casket funeral.” 

In the picture the now much skinnier man was wearing an expensive looking suit, a blue striped tie, and a matching handkerchief. Not only that, but on his lapel was a perfect purple iris.


	2. Down for the Count and Watching from a Distance

Winter’s harsh grip took hold, but it was warm inside the pizza parlor where they were having lunch. Well, most of them were eating. Eliza looked around her friend group and her eyes stopped at Alex who--for the third day in a row--had nothing but a notebook in front of him.

He is Mr. Non-stop. Alex almost never ate or had conversations with the rest of the group, only answering yes or no questions minimally. If Eliza were to guess she would say that he sat with them for lunch instead of in the library only for a change in atmosphere.   

Eliza smiled to herself and leaned into Alex’s personal space, ”So Alexander, is your essay coming out well?”

“Yes, my dear,” Alex responded, not looking up from his paper.

“I’m happy to hear that. I’m working on my salad right now, it’s quite good.”

“That’s nice.”

“Alexander, why don’t you eat something?” Eliza asked softly.

Conversation from the other members of the group froze as their attention homed in on Hamilton who gave Eliza a look of ‘why did you have to bring that up?’. She laughed softly as John, Gilbert, and Angelica began to berate him on his eating habits. While they were interrogating him, Peggy was cracking jokes at his expense and Hercules made small comments in between pauses.

“You need to eat Alexander, why don’t you let us buy you something?” John asked. He placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed him gently. Like every time the group went out, John was sitting next to Alex, if not a bit too close. At the winter’s ball where they all got a bit too tipsy for a school event the whole group danced with Alex at least once.

When Eliza and Alex danced together she felt absolutely helpless to his charms and finally gave into the hidden truth that she liked him a bit more than in a friendly manner. Unfortunately, she was not the only one to sway, nor was she the first.

Gilbert pulled her aside a few days after and convinced her to wait until John could gather the courage to make a move. After all, the two had known each other longer and John was still a very close friend who she wanted to see happy. But she could only wait so long especially with Angelica eyeing him, only held back by Eliza’s earlier claim of ‘this one’s mine’.

“Oui frère, why don’t we get you some pizza? It’s fantastique!” the Frenchman yelled holding up a slice.

The pizza here was greasy and gooey, not the type of thing Eliza would usually go for, but the boys (and Peggy!) liked it well enough. Alex eyed the food warily. “I’m not your brother and I don’t need you two to buy me food. I just have a lot of work to do is all.” He went to go back to his work, but Gilbert snatched his notebook away and held it over his head. “Hey!”

“You’re over my house almost every day and monsieur Washington favors you enough to be his son. What kind of man would I be if I let my brother perish from hunger and the frigid cold?” Gilbert said dramatically.

Alex had to stand on the chair to swipe his notebook back from Lafayette. “I’m not cold and I’m not hungry, so leave me alone.”

“That’s right,” Angelica spoke up moving her eyes around every inch of his body, “you’ll stay warm with your old tattered blue coat that I’ve never seen before. Where the hell did you get that anyway?”

“A consignment shop?” Hercules asked. For whatever reason the group’s pseudo appointed mother hen/teddy bear had miniscule grimace on his face while looking at the item of clothing. It did have holes and looked fairly old. Eliza laughed under her breath at the idea of the big man being so offended by a piece of clothing.  

Alex kept a blank face as he looked at Hercules. “Yes.” He opened his notebook and was about to begin writing once more when a man walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Eliza blinked, she didn’t even see the man come into the store. “What the hell do you-” Alex hesitated as he looked up, “oh. Thanks.”

The man looked to be average height and had pasty skin covered by dark clothing consisting of black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. His hair matched his outfit and made his pale eyes stand out harshly. He handed Alex the bag with a smile and walked away with an unusually fluent stride.

“Sooooo,” Peggy started, “What type of sandwich is that? It looks good but has some weird looking chicken.” She poked a bit of the white meat on the edge of the wrapper and made a small face of disgust.

“It’s a crab sandwich seasoned with salt, pepper, and pineapple,” Alex answered without looking through the sub.

“Sounds pretty good, I didn’t know you liked sea-”

“I think you missed the big question here Peggy,” John interrupted, “Who the hell was that?”

Alex had already torn into the sandwich with vigor and didn’t answer until John shook his shoulder. “Who?”

“That guy who was just here. You wouldn’t even let one of us buy you a slice of pizza, but you just took a sandwich from this guy who came out of nowhere!” John pointed out crossing his arms.

Alex only shrugged before he returned to his food.

John looked around the whole table, "none of you are wondering who that guy was? He looked like he could have been a serial killer or something.”

“He’s not,” Alexander asserted. Everyone eyed him expectantly, “look, I’ve known him for a long time.”

“Longer than you’ve known us?” John challenged.

“Much longer, he’s just...always been around.” As he said this Alex looked down to his food and took slower bites as he finished. John looked like he was going to interrogate further until Gilbert held him back and put a finger to his lips in a ‘shush’ motion.    

Once he finished his sandwich Alex only stared at his notebook in front of him. A quiet and still Alexander wasn’t a good combination. These little episodes were less frequent then they were a year ago, but when he got like that during class, everyone left him alone until he snapped out of his stupor.

“You know, I heard that John Church is going to ask me on a date,” Angelica said, looking nonchalant.  

“Oh really? Do you like him?” Peggy asked excitedly.

“He doesn’t seem like much fun, but I can work with that.”

“Hmmm?” Gilbert hummed, “no fun? I bet we can look into him and find something, if you so please.”

And just like that conversation returned to its normal upbeat pace. Alex began to write ten minutes later and even threw in small quips of his own. Lunch itself followed its typical routine, though they got back to school late because there was an ambulance slowly taking someone away from the sub shop across the street.


	3. Wait a Moment

“I’m sorry my dear, but I need to go. Jack is going to wonder what’s keeping me.” She was perfect. Dark ringlet hair perfectly matched sparkling eyes that complemented her smooth chocolate skin.

She reached for the door, but Aaron caught her shoulders in his hands and then pulled her into his chest. “Just let me hold you for a moment longer.” Her warmth against him was almost as radiant as her beauty.

This time when she pulled away it was only by inches, so she could stare up into his soul. “Aaron, I really need to go. He’ll wonder where I am, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“I wish we could,” Aaron responded. He sighed dramatically, placed a hand on her cheek, and drew her close as one of her hands rested against his heart. Their lips connected for an indeterminate amount of time before he pulled away and made sure to linger.

She laughed and finally left his arms, “you’ve had many moments when you only asked for one.”

He took the hand that was on his chest before and brought it to his mouth for a swift kiss. “If moments were minutes I would have held you for hours. Until tomorrow, Miss Theodosia.” Aaron only saw her smile briefly before she exited the janitor’s closet that they had claimed for their secret meetings.

Like a gentleman, he waited a few minutes for her to walk down the hallway and away from prying eyes before he stepped out. His head swam in the clouds as he walked to his locker, all with thoughts of Theodosia and how she made the dimly lit cleaning closet brighter than a strip of burning magnesium.

The only thing that stood in their way was her long-term relationship with her current boyfriend, Jack Prevost. He meant safety and a nice story to tell children down the road about remaining together since freshman year. There were other problems of course, she was a senior and he was a junior meaning she would be going to college next year. Jack would be able to follow her and be able to match those experiences while Aaron would be forced to stay back.

Aaron shook his head, organized his books, and carefully kept his mind off the unknown of a few months down the road.

The time to think of Theodosia was tomorrow when she was in _his_ arms, today he had to go to the library to start his research on his latest essay for Mr. Gates. Usually, the older man was the kind of teacher who gave a couple more than the bare minimum assignments but having Alexander Hamilton in his class must have made him want to step it up. Aaron huffed to himself as he thought of the tense class meetings and extra essays.

Hamilton wasn’t the most well-liked person for a variety of reasons, and that was certainly one of them. He almost walked into Mr. Gates’ room to ask about the assignment, until he heard the familiar sound of two people speaking in low strained voices. He glimpsed in and saw Hamilton pointing at something on a paper (probably his already finished essay) and defending it vehemently.

In this situation it was best to walk away. They could do this for hours.

So, instead he decided to walk to the library. Outside was a gloomy overcast that obviously threatened rain, luckily the library was only two blocks from the school. Aaron slammed the door behind him just as water started to battle the ground for dominance.

“Hey, I would like it if you didn’t slam my door.” When he looked up he saw the librarian, Catherine Livingston glaring at him with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry Miss Livingston, I was overzealous to get out of the rain.”

She hummed and turned away to push her cart full of books down the aisle, placing the texts in various designations as she did so. Aaron searched for the one he needed for a few minutes before he gave up and asked her for help. “Excuse me Miss Livingston, can you help me find _Life and Times of Jefferson Davis_?”

Miss Livingston stopped her cart with a familiar huff, but it seemed to be one of out of breath rather than annoyance. “That sounds like a book that Alexander took out two days ago. Go to the desk and ask him about it.” When she placed a few more large books in their respective homes the woman stopped to take a drink of water.

Aaron thought about asking if she was feeling well, but it wasn’t his business and she was a stranger to him. Though, he didn’t miss the way she held her chest as she continued to push the cart. He turned to make his way back to the desk to wait for Hamilton to arrive. As soon as he came to their sleepy town in Virginia the immigrant had taken a position here at the library.

Hamilton seemed to only ever be at four places at any given time: school, Principal Washington’s house (with his friends), out with said friends, or here in the library. Almost as if he lived here. Aaron walked around the maze of shelves with a small frown. Hamilton wasn’t the type of be late or shrug away his responsibilities, but with the way he argued with Mr. Gates-

“Well if it isn’t Aaron Burr! What can I do for you sir?”

He was there. At the desk. Aaron walked closer, “well, I need a book and Miss Livingston told me you had it. It’s called _Life and Times of Jefferson Davis._ ”

“Kitty is right, I took that out to do the paper for Gates. You know he’s a real-“ Hamilton started to go on about the older man’s backwards ideas. The small immigrant had a bit of a vendetta against the teacher. Last year when the school needed a new principal, the obvious frontrunner was Mr. Washington, but Mr. Gates was almost able to beat him out. No one knows for sure who started the rumors but trying to outqualify for a job was a good enough motive in Aaron’s (and apparently Alexander’s) mind.  

Aaron took the extended moment to wonder when Hamilton had gotten into the library. He didn’t see him on the run over and he didn’t hear the door open when he spoke to Miss Livingston, who he didn’t talk to for long or even for that far away. Hamilton also didn’t look wet or out of breath, but he had to have come in after Aaron.

“-for a crotchety old man, he sure can yell. Anyway, the book! It’s in the back office, I’ll get it for you.” Alex rose from his chair with a pivot and swiftly went into the back. As walked Aaron noticed something fall from his pocket. A bottle of pills? He walked around the desk to pick them up and underneath the desk he also saw…a suitcase? What? The label on the bottle read lovastatin.

Footsteps approached which caused Aaron to jump, put the pills down, and stand in the front of the desk as if nothing happened. “Let me check it in so you can have it.”

“You’re not done?”

“I have no more use for it. Had to put up quite a fight with Gates to be able to use it, but I convinced him it was a passable source, so you should be good to use it too.” He began to type on the computer when his phone alarm went off. “Oh, sorry Burr, but I have to give Kitty something.” He looked confused as he patted his pockets but smiled when he spotted the bottle. “I’ll only be a moment.”

He walked away with the pills leaving Aaron alone. His eyes wandered around the mostly empty desk save for a beat-up notebook Hamilton was using and a couple odds and ends. Then his eyes lingered to the slightly open doorway that led to the backroom. Inside was a bigger desk that was covered with papers and books, but it also had a decent sized couch that had been set up for a guest.

“Sorry about that, Kitty needs to be reminded to take her medication.”

Aaron shrugged, “cozying up to the librarian?”

Hamilton laughed, “maybe a little.”

“Twenty-six is a bit old for you, don’t you think?”

This time he smirked, “you’re the one to talk. I think almost everyone has heard about you and one Miss Theodosia.”

Aaron puffed out his chest, “nothing but a rumor.”

Alexander’s face softened, “you know it’s okay Aaron. I’ve heard from reliable sources that her and Jack have been growing apart and she’s been unhappy for quite some time now. If you make her happy and she does the same to you, then who am I to say it’s wrong?”

“Thank you, Alexander.” He really was less insufferable when he wasn’t around his friends. They brought out the anger and feistiness in him, especially Laurens. The two match each other like fire and an oil drum.

“No problem, man,” he said with a smile as he gave Aaron the book.

With book in hand Aaron went over to one of the tables and began to read and take notes. The book wasn’t long, but every once and a while Aaron’s spine would tingle, and he’d look around. There was no one else in the library, most likely due to the rain, but it _felt_ like someone else was there. And it was an eerily familiar feeling as well.  

Sometimes he would look over to Alexander and see…something. It didn’t help that at one point the lights began to flicker, so Alexander turned them off in annoyance. The thing looked like a black shadow figure in the corner, but as soon as Aaron would blink it would be gone. Eventually, the feeling got to be too much, and he gathered up his things to leave. Luckily the rain stopped at some point, so he could walk home in peace. He turned to say goodbye to his friend but when he did, Aaron saw the figure from before stood over Alexander. Instead of walking out the door Aaron ran to the light switches and flipped them on.

Hamilton looked up at him with a questioning face, slightly annoyed that he was disturbed from his notes and small meal next to him.

The figure vanished with the light, “it’s bad for your eyes to read in the dark, Alexander.” He tried to sound disappointed, but he was sure that his flustered expression gave his unease away.

“Are you okay, Burr?”

Aaron looked around and took deep breaths to calm his heart. Nothing was there. “Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

No. Nothing was making sense. How did Hamilton get in here? Why did he have a bottle of pills for his co-worker? And why was he apparently living in the library when he lived with a sweet old lady currently? What was that thing and why did it feel so horribly familiar? And where the fuck did that food come from?! The guy never eats anything. “Yes.”

“Well then, have a nice rest of your day Burr.”

“You too.”

“Oh, and I left the return date open, so you can bring the book back whenever you want.”

“Thank you, Alexander,” Aaron said genuinely, “for everything.”

Hamilton gave him a dazzling smile in return. It was understandable that he was called the tomcat, he could worm his way into everyone’s hearts. Luckily, Aaron’s was already full from his darling Theodosia. The questions would have to wait another day. Or never. It wasn’t his business after all.

Though, it was a good thing that Hamilton had let him have the book for as long as he needed it. The library was closed for two weeks to hire more help because Catherine Livingston died of a major heart attack two days later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn man, Burr's chapter was supposed to be the shortest. I just love him though.


	4. Seriously, What Did I Miss?

“When is that old fucker going to be done?” Hamilton grumbled to himself. He slouched against his chair in boredom.

When Hamilton mumbled things to himself he might as well be speaking to the world because he always wanted to be heard. God he was an intolerable little bastard. “You eager to get your ass smashed in this debate today?” Charles Lee challenged.

True, there was merit to what Hamilton had said. Everyone here was waiting outside Horatio Gates’ classroom after school for him to start debate club. It was obvious that the elder man only did it for the few extra dollars the school board threw him for running a competitive club which often resulted in late starting times, cancelled meetings, or ones cut short.

“Didn’t know that you were that type of guy Lee, I can set you up with a couple of people I know. They’d love to top someone like you,” John Laurens responded easily.

Ah, Hamilton’s right-hand man and biggest admirer in more ways than one. At some point one of the extraneous debate team members (the ones who let Hamilton do the talking) decided to put chairs out in the hallway. On one side was Hamilton’s group, the only two of note being Laurens and John Jay. On Thomas’ side the people who contributed were Lee and Aaron Burr. Though, Burr and the word contributing was almost an oxymoron with his ideals on speaking.

“You’re one to talk considering you’re defending your little boyfriend there,” Lee sneered.

Thomas took a deep breath and exhaled silently. Lee and the word contribution was also a bit of an oxymoron for how much of an actual uninspired moron he was. He looked at Thomas for support and he figured that it was about time he jumped in. “Lee’s right, but it’s not at all surprising considering how much pets like to defend their masters.”

Laurens looked as if he was about to explode with opposition when Alexander sat up and beat him to the response. “Really Jefferson, you’re calling John my pet? I think you’re just upset that your little shadow isn’t here to back you up instead of Lieutenant fuck up over there.”

Another statement that was unfortunately true, but he’d be damned if he’d let Hamilton win something. So, without a second of pause Thomas said, “so you admit Laurens is your dog then huh?”

“Better a dog than the bitches you have over there,” Laurens bit back.

Whatever response Thomas was coming up with in his head died in his throat when Lafayette nudged his side. “I would appreciate it if my copains wouldn’t fight like children.”

“Dude we’re all about to go into the debate room,” Laurens said, the anger leaving his voice as he talked to friend. In light of James not being able to show up—poor guy went home sick again—Lafayette decided to support Thomas’ side instead of accompanying Mulligan to sewing club.

“Is one moment of peace too much to ask from you?”

“It is when we’re all bored as fuck waiting for that old asshole in there to hurry up,” Alex grumbled. He slumped back down in his chair and the hallway was as silent as it was before. Even when a man sat in the chair next to Hamilton and made no noise as he did so. Thomas straightened and eyed the man. Tall, pale, and mostly dressed in dark colors. Drab would be the best way to describe him.

But where the hell did he come from? The hallway was empty a second ago and Thomas didn’t even hear any footsteps.

Hamilton looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, “what do you want?”

Instead of speaking the man raised his hands and moved them with purpose. His face was blank and betrayed no emotion.

The gremlin watched his hands move with slow patience. His face lightened with understanding, “Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you that I have debate today. Or I would if the old man in there would _hurry his ass up.”_

Another set of movements, this time the man’s face morphed into one that had an amused smile.

This time Hamilton’s face turned red and he recoiled as if been accused of the wort crime imaginable. “I am not! You take that back!”

Lafayette had been watching the scene with skepticism and tensed, while Laurens immediately went to the edge of his seat. “What did he say to you, Alex?” His voice was a low growl and it was quite evident that he was ready for a fight. It was unclear to Thomas if Lafayette was tensed to get ready to hold back Laurens or to join him.

“He said that I’m overreacting and with my stature he’s surprised that people don’t call me little kitten instead of little lion. You believe this shit!”

The mood in the hallway was immediately lifted and Laurens let out a disbelieving snort before breaking into laughter. Next to Thomas, Lafayette untensed as well and looked at his friend with a teasing expression. “I believe he’s quite correct, mon petite chaton.”

Hamilton’s face kept its red shade as he began to yell at his laughing friends. The man only looked on with his amused expression until the tiny angry gremlin had to take a couple deep breaths, so his body could function. Then the man reached out his hand and ruffled his hair affectionately, to which Hamilton responded by ducking away and swatting at him.

“Stoooppp,” he whined.

Thomas watched idly, but he would be lying if he didn’t find the scene at least a little quaint. “That was an awfully kitten like action and mewl.”

At that Hamilton jumped from his chair and began to stop over to him when the man caught his shoulder and (when did he stand up?) signed something to him with one hand. He sat back down, “no, no that’s unnecessary. Is there any other reason you’re here anyway?” And so began an exceedingly boring one sided conversation.

With only Hamilton speaking nothing much of note could be gathered. Other than the fact that Laurens was staring at the man warily and for once in his miserable life Hamilton was speaking in hushed tones. Or what little children call a normal inside voice. And with every sentence Hamilton began to slow down and become more somber.

Which was odd because Hamilton is Mr. Non-stop.

“Which one? The woman who was impaled after the-“ Thomas’ eyes snapped into focus. Now that was an interesting bit of sentence. He caught Lafayette’s eyes briefly who then looked back at his friend with concern and Laurens sat up in his chair as well. His boyfriend opened his mouth to speak to Hamilton, but the conversation had already moved on. It was well known that Hamilton didn’t have the best childhood, but it usually went not talked about. Most of the school onlyy knew that his mother had died and his father left there family some time before that, and he ended up in the States by some chance of God's grace and humanitarian efforts. 

Hamilton must have caught himself because he began to speak in another language that Thomas didn’t know. There were bits of French in it, but it seemed like a confusing amalgamation of many different ones. The man looked like he was paying rapt attention though.

And what about this man? He came straight out of nowhere and everyone just accepted that. It was little mystery how he got into the school, it was almost impossible for someone to not find an unlocked door to get in. But what was odd was that Alexander Hamilton rarely played nice with anyone, especially if they were over the age of eighteen or so. The only two notable exceptions were the dead Livingston girl and the Washington’s.

Not even the other teachers were spared. The man seems familiar in a way that Thomas shouldn’t quite wrap his mind around. He’s sure he’s seen the (extremely) pale man before, but lord knows where.  

Without the means to eavesdrop—seriously did Hamilton have to annoy him so much--Thomas quickly grew bored and pulled out his phone. At first, he texted James again to make sure he was okay and when he didn’t get a response (that’s okay he was probably sleeping) he decided to open a mobile game. He was interrupted in a genuinely great game of Poggle when Gates finally stepped into the doorway.

“Alright boys, you can come in now,” the elder man said gruffly. Even if there was a couple girls on the debate team and some of them were adults he always addressed them all as boys.

They all rose to get up and from the corner of his eye, Thomas saw Hamilton try to push the man away. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

Gates raised a brow. “Who is this Hamilton? Your new foster parent?”

Hamilton froze for a moment and turned to the older man with a puffed-out chest. “He’s leaving.”

The man frowned as he gazed down to his foster son(?). Gates shuffled fully out of the door frame and over to the pair. “Nonsense. You know I’ve wanted to have the chance to speak to one of your guardians for a while now.” He looked Hamilton’s father up and down. “This one looks like a good one. One that’ll keep you under control, _boy_.”

“Yeah, sure. He really needs to get going. Business and all that,” Hamilton said hurriedly. He also tried to get further in between the two men, but before he could the man held out his hand to shake. The small boy looked a bit afraid as the two men’s hands met and went up and down.

Intriguing considering the only time Hamilton has been known to be nervous or scared was when Washington would raise his voice.

“Ah, see. Finally, a reasonable man.” Gates slowly hobbled over to the doorway and gestured for the man to follow. “Boys, stay out here while I talk to this fine gentleman.” Hamilton looked helpless as he watched the two men walk into the room. “I have a _lot_ of things to tell you about Alexander,” Gates said with a smile as he closed the door.

Hamilton went back to his seat, but never took his eyes off the door. “Hey man, are you okay?” Laurens said as he nudged his friend. Hamilton didn’t even blink, he just kept his thousand-yard stare at the door.

“What’s wrong Hamilton? Not responding to your lackey today?” Thomas teased lightly. The situation wasn’t overly out of the ordinary, Hamilton switched houses every now and again for various reasons. With the way that his new father was dressed it wasn’t a surprise that he let Hamilton walk around in a jacket filled with holes. How Mulligan let him walk around with that was beyond him though.

Laurens gave him a dark look and Lafayette put a hand on his shoulder lightly. When Thomas turned to his friend he put a finger to his lips and shook his head side to side. “Is best not to speak to ‘im while he is like zis,” Lafayette whispered.

It was if Hamilton had suddenly been replaced by someone else. Usually the annoying little brat would never stop moving. Always fidgeting and if he wasn’t talking to someone he was often whispering under his breath. The person sitting next to Laurens wasn’t doing anything. Didn’t move, blink, and perhaps breathe.

“What an odd situation,” Thomas whispered to Lee.

“Yeah, I’ll need to look into this,” Lee agreed. “What do you think, Aaron?” It wasn’t odd per say that Aaron didn’t respond, but when Thomas looked over at him his team member, he saw the boy had an expression that was a mirror of Hamilton’s. He was transfixed on the door. “Burr, come-on, you need to agree with me here.”

“Does that man look familiar to you?” Burr said carefully, not moving.

“A little,” Thomas admitted. Aaron Burr was known for being a quiet motherfucker who liked to hide his opinions until the last possible moment. Man, he’d have to text James a novel tonight about this debate meeting and its uniqueness.

“Is there something odd about him?”

“Like what Burr? Man, we’re going to get ruined today because Madison isn’t here and you’re acting like a pussy,” Lee said rolling his eyes.

Burr didn’t respond, opting to continue his staring competition. The trance was broken when the door opened once again. This time Gates came out with a hand patting the man’s back and with a bright smile on his face. “I knew when I saw you, you’d be good for him.”

The man gave a full laugh finally revealing his voice to be low and musical in quality.

“It was nice to meet you, please come around anytime so we can discuss him some more.”

This time the man nodded and gave Gates another friendly handshake before swiftly moving down the hallway and towards Hamilton. His stride was almost too fluent, and his footsteps made almost no noise. He signed at Hamilton once again.

“It’s no problem,” Hamilton responded, but he sounded very…distant.

“Come on in boys, I don’t have all day,” Gates snapped. Everyone got up with a mix of hushed sarcastic remarks and entered the classroom with Hamilton at the back of the pack. They took their places and the seating arrangement was the same as the hallway. Hamilton’s side vs. his own. Thomas got his notes out of his bag and with a glance across the room he saw Hamilton’s was several pages longer.

“Now, I’m hoping to have a nice dinner with the Missus tonight, so we’ll only go over the first three discussion topics. Let’s get started,” Gates paused to adjust his glasses and he squinted at the paper, “should cell phones be used as educational tools?”

Thomas tensed, ready for the onslaught of words, but none came. Hamilton sat there, complacent. It was completely silent for a couple minutes until one of the usually quiet kids spoke up. His answer was dull and uninspired, like a Burr answer. When he finished the whole room looked at Hamilton and then to him for some sort of response.

“Well, we use technology everyday in and out of the classroom so to keep up with the times we should incorporate it into the classroom more and more,” Thomas said swiftly because he could keep his answers short and precise. It didn’t matter though because there was no answer from Hamilton or his side of the room. “For those who can afford such technologies, anyway,” he baited.

 _That_ didn’t even get a verbal response. Hamilton hated it when he brought up the fact that he didn’t have any money. The room felt off and uneasy, this was too different from the norm, the gremlin kitten was _never_ this quiet. “I think it would be a lot easier if we had a younger principal as well. As we know Washington can barely use a computer without his second son over there.”

At that Hamilton gave him a murder like glare and Thomas almost licked his lips. This was going to be good. “I would appreciate it if you did not talk about mon père like that, Thomas,” Lafayette hissed next to him.

Right. Sometimes it's easy to forget that the Frenchman was Washington’s adopted son from across the sea. “My apologies Gilbert.”

After another stint of silence Gates took that as a cue to move on. “Now that we’ve explored that topic how about, what is more important: personal privacy or national security?”

A couple of the quiet people spoke up for this one (and Lee, but he is inconsequential). Then everyone was either staring at Hamilton or Thomas once more. “National security is very important especially if it means jeopardizing the privacy of the people not from this country originally,” Thomas goaded. Did Thomas believe that? Not really, but it had to get something out of his rival.

Almost everyone’s attention snapped to him but Hamilton’s. He was too busy looking the other way out the window and the cloud filled sky. Lauren’s didn’t turn to him either as he was too busy looking concerned at his (boy)friend. Oddly enough Aaron also wasn’t looking at him, too preoccupied staring at a dark corner of the room near the windows.

“Now for our last question for today,” Gates said as he interrupted Thomas’ train of thought. He swore under his breath and asked, “can students home lives affect them in school?”

Hamilton turned his head at an agonizingly slow pace. “Yes.”

No one spoke up. He said it with a type of finality that didn’t belong in an open discussion debate meeting. Without Hamilton’s opinion the rest of his lackeys didn’t know what to say and Thomas didn’t really want to get into this either. It’s been a long odd day and he really just wanted to have hot chocolate with Jemmy. This time when the room looked at him he shrugged, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Gates smiled—it looked like a Disney villain, ugh—and clapped his hands together. “Alright boys, I guess we’re going to call it a day. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Most people left quickly, eager to get home before the rain, especially Burr. The quiet man could actually run pretty fast.

Hamilton lingered back along with his two other friends and Thomas decided to as well. He put his things away slowly, walked out the door, and leaned on the wall outside just out of sight. “Ah Hamilton, I know you want to argue with me about your latest essay, but-“

“It’s fine we can talk about it tomorrow,” Hamilton interrupted.

Gates didn’t even seem upset that he was cut off by the small boy. “Good, and you better treat that man well, there are only so many men who will put up with you.”

“…of course, sir,” Hamilton said sarcastically.

After a pause Gates said, “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing him soon.”

“I do too, have a good evening, sir.”

No fights from Hamilton today at all. Bizarre. The group walked out of the room together and as they passed Thomas couldn’t resist speaking up, “No bark or bite today for you or your pet, Hamilton?”

He didn’t even look back, “you need to give other people a chance to speak sometimes Jefferson.” They kept walking and Laurens kept an arm wrapped around Hamilton’s shoulder. As they walked down the hallway he barely caught Hamilton say, “hey Laf, you think I can stay over your house tonight?”

“Of course, mon amie! We would love to have you. Martha is going to make…” They rounded the corner and were out of sight and sound.

Whatever, it’s not like Thomas needed a reaction from Hamilton or anything. And because he dawdled about to spy on them he ruined his favorite fuchsia coat in the rain.

“I’m telling you James, it was so unnatural,” Thomas said the next day in Gates’ class. It was the first period of the day and surprisingly Hamilton and his boyfriend weren’t here yet.

“I know, you told me all about it last night,” James said, annoyed. After debate he had gone straight to James’ house—well he stopped to get his friend’s favorite candy first—and retold him about the meeting for hours. So they could analyze the details, of course.

They paused when Hamilton, Laurens, and surprisingly John Adams walked into the classroom. The class immediately broke out in hushed whispers. Adams was the vice principal of the school and no one really knew what he did because he was never in his office or perhaps in the building. He mostly kept to himself and didn’t interact with anyone and whenever he did he was snappy.

Hamilton and Laurens took their seat and kept their heads down.

“Hello class,” Adams started, “I’m going to be your substitute teacher until the school can find a replacement for Gates.”

“What happened to the old man?” Lee asked.

Adams put his briefcase down on the desk and without looking at them he said, “he died last night of a stroke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap, schools been kicking me pretty hard. I also feel bad about Laf, writing accents is so hard and I want it to be better than zis, zim, and zat. Gonna have to fix that before his chapter comes up.


	5. It took Four Minutes and Thirty Eight Seconds

The class always went through cycles of loud boisterous activity to quiet boredom, usually after Adams yelled at them to quiet down. This was the most any of them had ever seen Adams consecutively, and even now he was astoundingly never really there. He would sit at Gates’ old desk—which had yet to be cleared out—on his phone or on the computer doing something.

The Early American History class which used to have a moderate to high amount of work—due to Hamilton—was now basically a study hall. The other Early American History teacher gave him their plans, worksheets, and assignments, but none of them were ever given out. It was taking much longer than anyone suspected for the school to find a new teacher to replace Mr. Gates who had passed away just over two weeks ago.

James sat in his usual seat next to his best friend Thomas, and next to him was Charles Lee. They never really talked to Lee before Hamilton came careening into their lives, but Thomas said that they needed numbers on their side, for what James wasn’t sure. They even started to confer with Aaron Burr, but the stubborn man wouldn’t sit next to their group. He decided to stay in the back ever inconspicuous and ready to pounce.

“You should put textual evidence here John, it would make your argument stronger. You need to explain why Huckleberry felt that way about Jim,” Hamilton said pointing at the computer screen.

“No one wants to hear your opinions, Hamilton,” Lee butt in. James sighed silently as he watched Thomas’ face twist into a grin. Here we go again. Their little group sat directly behind Hamilton and Laurens because on the first day of school Thomas had said they needed the tactical advantage. It mostly led to him and Hamilton screaming at each other.

“No one wants to hear your voice Lee,” Laurens shot back a little bit louder.

Lee opened his mouth to respond, but the noise must have caught Adams attention because he slammed down the book he was reading and gave them all a murder glare. “Quiet!”

It was a shame really, James had worked with Hamilton and his friend, John Jay on what would probably be the longest essay of his high school career. It was eighty-five pages, he wrote twenty-nine of them himself. Something about Hamilton and his endless enthusiasm constantly pushed him forward through the blurry vision and fatigue that usually ended his studies.

Like now. James fished around in his bag for his oversized water bottle and took long gulps. Thomas looked over to him with worry which he waved away. He was just a sickly person with a weak immune system. His mother had stopped taking him on regular visits to the doctor long ago, usually satisfying him with various over the counter medications.

“You should really go to the doctor.” James glanced up and saw Hamilton look at him with a blank expression. There was a hint of concern that shone through. It was odd, as soon as the small boy came to the school he had taken one look at James and told him the same thing.

“He’s fine,” Thomas asserted. More than he really had to.

Hamilton’s gaze only lingered on him for a moment before going back to his own writing. He was a very strange person indeed. Most people would prefer the school provided Chromebooks, but he liked to stick to pencil and paper to write all his assignments if he could. It looked to be already at least ten pages long in tiny perfectly written cursive, whatever it was.

Lee nudged Thomas slightly, “hey, remember a couple weeks ago at the debate meeting? I found out a few things since then.”

Thomas lit up, “really? Do tell.”

Oh no. James made it look like he was busy writing his own paper as he got ready for the gossip and the inevitable blow up that would be occurring—he looked at the clock—in approximately four and a half minutes.

“Just you wait.” Lee turned himself away from Thomas. “So, from what I hear Hamilton you’ve been fired from your position at the library.”

James paused his writing. Hamilton being fired wasn’t necessarily a shock, he was hard to work with and quite arrogant, but in this time of need the library really shouldn’t be able to spare him. After Miss Livingston’s death he practically kept the place afloat while it was shut down and just after it opened.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Thomas added in, “after all, I heard that you and Livingston were sleeping together. Probably wanted to get rid of the smell afterwards.” Him and Lee snickered after the statement and James fought to not roll his eyes. James loved Thomas, but sometimes Lee made him act too immature.

Hamilton stilled but soon continued to write, “slander in its purest form. Kitty and I were just friends.”

“Yeah, so why don’t you shut the fuck up?” Laurens turned and hissed lowly at them.

“Since I knew about that I actually decided to inquire a few things. The man that replaced you and Livingston was very forward about some personal information that you left behind in your rush to leave. I didn’t know you had family in Scotland,” Lee said, his smile from snickering started to morph into something crueler.

This time when Hamilton stilled, he also gripped his pencil tighter, like a thin breakable stress ball. “I do,” Hamilton stated.

“Wait what?” Thomas said aloud.

Laurens must have shared the same sentiment because he looked at Hamilton with confusion. “You never mentioned any-“

“I was surprised too, I mean why would you still be an orphan if you have family not only in Scotland, but here in America? I think its really interesting considering that you’re still in the system. It’s almost like no one in your family wants you,” Lee finished easily.

Hamilton tensed, but said nothing. “You know, you should just shut the hell up Lee,” Laurens growled.

Lee let a moment pause, never letting his grin slide from his face, “make me.”

There was a loud sound of metal scraping the ground as Hamilton struggled to hold Laurens down in his chair. “What’s going on over there?” Adams asked looking up from his phone.

“Nothing,” Hamilton said too quickly. Luckily, Adams didn’t seem to care and stepped out of the classroom to make a call. Then Hamilton turned to Laurens with an arm wrapped around his shoulder and the other on his chest.

In any other circumstance Laurens probably would have loved having Hamilton’s hands all over him, but now he looked absolutely pissed. “What the hell?” he hissed at a low volume.

“It’s not worth it. I really don’t want to have another trip down to Washington over something so trivial,” Hamilton said to his friend in a hushed voice.

“That wasn’t trivial Alex, that was way out of line,” Laurens whispered back.

“Dear lord, they’re about to tackle each other,” Thomas uttered under his breath. The two were looking into each other’s passion filled eyes and from the way they were sitting—with Hamilton practically in Laurens’ lap--their sexual tension could break any moment. Especially with the way Laurens’ eyes occasionally darted down to the other’s lips. “Better fix that.”

James ripped his view away from the almost couple, but he didn’t have enough time to tell Thomas that he shouldn’t say whatever he wanted to say. “Yeah, I guess you really can’t afford another trip down to Daddy’s office can you Hamilton?”

 _Fuck_. With the way Thomas said the word daddy—ugh—the meaning of the sentence could have been taken in a completely non-familial way. And god dammit, he still wasn’t feeling well, and he did not want a fist fight today.

Unfortunately, with the way Hamilton and Laurens snapped to attention it looked like at least one of them was due for a black eye and at the very least a string of detentions. “Maybe that’s where he wants to go. I mean if he’s not getting fucked by Livingston anymore I’m sure over the principal’s desk is the next best thing,” Lee added on.

Hamilton’s arms dropped from Lauren’s leaving him unrestrained and he puffed himself up to get ready for a fight. “Say something like that again Lee, I dare you.”

Thomas was about to open his mouth, but this time James saw it coming enough in advance to grab his arm and give it a swift tug. His friend gave him a pouty look, but James held his ground, he was no Burr, “C’mon Thomas, look at him. You really want to get punched today?” They were two powder kegs about to explode and him and Thomas _really_ didn’t need a trip down to the principal’s office either. Now, he would just need to shut Lee up before-

“I can only imagine what he does to both of you when you’re back at Mount Vernon. I mean come on, we all know you both have daddy issues and based on those rumors from last year-“ Laurens interrupted Lee with the response of a hard punch to his left eye.

Ka-boom.

Lee fell out of his chair, hitting his head on another desk as he did so, and Laurens jumped over a desk to follow him. He landed on top of Lee and held him down while punching him a few more times in the face.   

When Hamilton jumped over the desk it looked like he was going to follow in Laurens’ assault, but he instead pulled the other boy off. Surprisingly, it was Burr that was by Lee’s side. He pulled Lee away and helped him stand up while Laurens struggled to get out of Hamilton’s grip.

“You mother fucker! You think you can say that shit! I’ll tear you apart!”

“You need to calm down,” Hamilton asserted. Though, while he said it he had a large smile on his face and looked as though he was holding in laughter.

“What the fuck is happening in here?!” Adams yelled as he came back in the classroom. It wasn’t an odd sight per say. Burr holding up a bruised, beaten, and bleeding Lee while Hamilton restrained Laurens who was high from fighting. He stomped his way over to the two and pulled Laurens and Hamilton apart.

“Oh, Hamilton and Laurens fought Lee,” Thomas supplied.

“Fuck off Jefferson, that’s not what happened,” Laurens spat.

Adams turned to Laurens, “Frankly I don’t give a shit if that’s true or not. You, Lee, and that Creolean Caribbean bastard are going to go to Washington’s office to be his problem!” Adams yelled.

There was a beat of silence and--

“The _FUCK_ did you just call me!?” Hamilton roared. For a moment it was if time had stopped as Hamilton (somehow?) appeared in front of Adams and promptly punched the older man in the jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at this, actual conflict. Shorter compared to the last chapter, but I think its fitting for the dynamic of Thomas and James.


	6. Shot in the Leg

And here they were. Now, him and Alex being in Mr. Washington’s office wasn’t really a surprise. Hell, when he first got promoted John, Alex, Laf, and Hercules helped him set up the place. Washington’s desk was large, six feet long, four-foot-deep, meticulously carved, and heavy as fuck. On it was an old desktop computer (the type that wasn’t flat in the back, big and bulky), a small desk lamp, a vase full of bright crisp flowers (courteous of Mrs. Washington), and about ten thousand papers neatly stacked in piles.

It was true that the administrators helped keep the papers in order, but after Washington’s third week in office Alex declared that they were incompetent. So, he basically became a secretary by organizing things and completing mild paperwork whenever he had the time, and he always had time for Washington. Ever since his termination from the library, he’d been in here more than ever.

Currently, there were six chairs squeezed in front of the desk, three of them filled by Alex, Lee, and himself. Usually, the chairs were set up for an after-school hangout session, but now they had to wait for their parents and or guardians. In the time between the fight and now, nurse Dr. Mann had given Adams and Lee a bag of ice and a slight medical evaluation. Adams’ jaw wasn’t broken, and Lee didn’t have a concussion.   

So that sucks.

Adams’ stood behind Washington with a huffy expression on his face and coughed every so often in a handkerchief. After the fist few fights happened it became Washington’s policy for all parties involved to sit quietly and wait (calm down). This was to avoid launching into an angry Alexander rant followed (or interrupted) by at least three more shouting voices.

The door behind them slowly swung towards them. “In here Mr and Mrs. Lee,” Nelson said opening the door. Nelson was the office’s best secretary, from John’s biased point of view. Always articulately dressed, didn’t participate in office politics, and always listened to the group’s stories with mild amusement.

“Thank you, sir,” Mrs. Lee said in a small kind voice. She was the typical looking upper-class housewife woman complete with styled blond hair and makeup that looked almost _too_ perfect. Mr. Lee said nothing, but he did pull out the chair next to his son, so his wife could sit down gingerly. The man himself looked tired, like years and years of stress squashed any sense of personality he once had and left him with a mostly empty shell.

She took one look at Lee and her eyes went wide. She placed her hands under his chin to draw him closer, “oh, my poor baby!”

“Mom let go!” Lee said as he squirmed out of her grip.

“I just want to see if my little boy is okay…” He turned away from her, even though she looked genuinely concerned for his well being.

Some people don’t realize how lucky they are.

“I know where it is, you don’t need to get up,” came a voice from outside. John straightened in his chair, folded his hands in front of him, and put his head down. The door opened, and his father stepped into the office, and closed the door with force. He sat down with a huff and looked at John, “what did you do this time?”

His voice was low and irritated, like always. John kept looking down at his hands as Washington paused his paperwork to responded for him, “you know my rule Mr. Laurens, the children don’t need to explain themselves until all the guardians are here.”

John wanted to protest the use of the word child, but he remained quiet. His father gave a hum (growl) from the back of his throat. “At least you have the decency to look ashamed,” he muttered down towards John. He continued to look down and didn’t make eye contact. Usually, his father skipped these things, content with letting Washington (or more accurately Alex) e-mail him the details later, but today must be a special day.

He even sat in between him and Alex, so unlike the other times John couldn’t even be comforted by the closeness of his friend.

The room sat silent except for the scratching of Washington’s pen on a paper that would probably be typed up by Alex later. Mrs. Lee continued to look over her son’s face thoroughly and John fidgeted with his hands slightly. “Stop,” his father commanded.

So he did.

John wanted to get up and move, maybe pace with Alex to get rid of the extra tension and energy in the room, but there was no chance he could. His father would snap at him in front of everyone and he didn’t want his reaction to be mocked by Lee later. That would just end up in another trip here a few days from now.

Henry Laurens was once a nicer man. Back when his wife was still alive. Back when the stress of raising four small children wasn’t solely on him. Back when John still wanted to follow his path to be a lawyer. Back before he suspected John was gay.

Lost pride does ugly things to people.

“Washington, we should start. I don’t think that little-“ Adams started, as he stared at Alex. From John’s position he saw Alex lean in and tense. Challenging. “I don’t think Alexander’s guardian will be showing up anytime today.”

Washington looked up from his paper, “I’ll give Ruth another call in a moment.”

“You won’t reach her,” Alex said. “Sorry, to keep you waiting, I thought you called The House instead.”

“Oh?” Washington said and straightened up, “did something happen to her? Is she alright?”

“She died the same night as Gates. Found her cold when I got home from work,” Alex said, as he looked directly into his eyes.

Mrs. Lee gasped, and Washington frowned, “I’m sorry to hear that Alexander.”

“I’m sure,” Alex deadpanned. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve already been assigned a new home.”

“That makes number four to die when you were there, huh Hamilton?” Lee said condescendingly.

The older man cleared his throat before another fight could break out. “regardless, you’re supposed to inform me when you switch homes or guardians.”

“I won’t be staying with him long, might as well save myself the paperwork,” Alex said simply. For a moment his eyes glanced to the multiple file cabinets he kept tidy.  

“Yeah, probably because he’s a drug addict,” Lee added.

Alex’s attention turned to him, “didn’t you learn your lesson already?”

Mrs. Lee put a hand to her son’s shoulder. “Charles, I know you’re hurt, but we still don’t know the whole story yet and you shouldn’t make fun of him.” Lee huffed, but he set back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“The room is right in here, sir,” Nelson said from the other side of the door. Everyone turned to see who Nelson was letting in. There shouldn’t be anyone else. The door opened to reveal the tall pale man. He gave a friendly wave to Nelson who smiled as he closed the door.

Alex straightened, “what are you doing here?”

The man’s smile didn’t dim as he fluidly walked over to the chair and sat down with just as much grace. He motioned his hands directly at Alex.

“Well, you don’t. I can take care of this by myself,” Alex said with a puffed chest. The man kept smiling and moved to ruffle Alex’s hair, but he could only do so for a couple seconds before he was swatted away. “I told you to stop doing that,” Alex whined.

Something in John’s chest swirled. Whenever the younger boy got teased by his friends he got all pouty and cute. It made him want to go up to Alex and cuddle and tell him that everything will be okay until he felt better. His father gave him a side eye which told John that his gay was showing too much, and he quickly beat the burgeoning fuzzy feeling down.

Washington watched the interaction between Alex and his new guardian idly. He didn’t show any emotion at the moment, but he didn’t look happy with the interaction.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Alex asked irritably.

This time the man huffed and shook his head side to side slightly. Then he looked over to John and gave another wave. John blinked and slowly waved back. “It’s, ugh, nice to see you again, sir,” John said.

The man broke out into another happy grin and turned to Alex, signing something once more. Alex rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. His cheeks became dusted an adorable red as he went back to being pouty.

Aww. John almost let a smile slip.

The man turned to Washington and the two paused and closely examined the other. The pale man looked just as unimpressed with the man sitting in front of him. He moved his hands again, this time at Washington who followed the movements, but not with the understanding in his eyes that Alex had. “He said that you have a lovely office and that the snapdragons in the vase have bloomed wonderfully,” Alex translated.

“Hello, I’m George Washington, principal here at Fairfax County High, it’s nice to meet you.” His voice was sterner and slightly deeper than when he spoke to Alex earlier. He held out his hand to shake.

The man looked amused and went to move his arm to shake hands but was stopped by Alex. “Shouldn’t we just skip introductions and get this going?”

“It’s rude to skip introductions,” Washington said not taking his eyes off the man.

“You might as well omit the formalities,” John’s father butted in looking at his watch, “we have things to get through and he’ll probably have a different keeper soon anyway.”   

Washington looked displeased, but he looked at the hanging clock on the wall and frowned further, “alright then, but can you stay after sir? There are some things I would like to discuss with you.”

Mr. Paleman shook his head yes.

“Alright then, let’s start with you Charles. Can you tell us what happened?”

And so, Lee launched into his story about how he was innocently talking with his friends and how out of nowhere Laurens attacked him with Hamilton egging him on in the background. When Adams tried to break them apart immediately after the fight started because apparently, he was in the room the whole time, Hamilton socked him in the jaw.

“That’s bullshit,” John said as soon as his story ended. He was amazed that he was able to hold himself back for so long.

And that Alex wasn’t saying anything.

“John!” his father yelled.

It took everything that he had to not shrink back, but John held his ground. “Half of that was a complete lie. Adams wasn’t even in the room when I punched him. Check the hallway cameras. And Lee wasn’t just chatting with Jefferson he was talking shit about Alex!”

“It doesn’t matter what he said you still punched him. Now sit quietly while Washington tells us your punishment,” his father said.

John looked over to Alex, but he was looking down at his lap. Why wasn’t he saying anything.

“I would still like to hear John and Alexander’s side of the story,” Washington said calmly.

“You might as well only have one speak,” Adams mumbled. Then he coughed a bit more into his cloth. “I’m going to open a window, there is something in this room that’s killing me.”

He went to open the blinds, but the pale man tapped on his desk to get his attention and signed something. “He said to please refrain from opening the window. He has bad allergies and tree pollen is high today.”  

Honestly an open window would be nice. Washington’s office was small with nine people inside which gave it a suffocating feeling. Not only that, but the office was very dim due to a lack of lighting.

Adams grumbled and went back to standing next to Washington. The conversation turned to Alex, who was infuriatingly quiet up until this point. John shuffled in his chair and tried to not look annoyed at his friend. He picked now of all times to follow Burr’s advice and stop talking.

Alex’s story was accurate for the most part. With Adams leaving the room to make a call and Lee taunting him, though he didn’t go into detail about what he said. That made sense though, because as he told the story he kept full eye contact with Washington. Anyone who looked at their interactions could see how much Alex admired the old army general.

Then he got to the part where he punched Adams.

“Adams pulled us apart and I was still riled up from the fight and punched him in the jaw.”

What the fuck. Honestly. What. The. Fuck. John looked at his friend with confusion and tried to speak up, but his father gave him another look that said: don’t embarrass me again.

Washington sighed, “Alex, you know that hitting a teacher is a serious offense. Doing something like this could lead to expulsion.”

Oh no. Oh shit.

“Could?!” Adams yelled. “I sat through this whole thing for you to go easy on him? I know you favor him for some godforsaken reason, but he’s gotten in too many fights before to let this go with even a long-term suspension.”

Alex withered a bit but said nothing else. The man didn’t say anything to defend Alex either, he just looked mostly confused or entertained. What the fuck is going on? Alex would never not argue that he should still be in school. He probably fucking loved learning more than any anyone in this damn building. “Well, yes, but his grades are impeccable and-“

“This his fifth physical fight this year, not to mention the verbal ones that he has daily, and the blatant disrespect to all faculty, to even you sometimes. He needs to leave,” Adams asserted.

“He truly is a menace to everyone around him,” Lee said.

And Alex still kept silent.

John looked around the room. Lee was smiling like an asshole, Adams was fuming, Washington looked guilty and unsure, and his father currently glared down at him, waiting for John to say something stupid.

Shit.

He had to make a decision before one of the adults did. Someone had to make sure he wouldn’t get kicked out of school and Alex was worth whatever his father would do to him when he got home.

“This ridiculous! You’re just going to ignore everything that Lee and Adams said to him?” John started.

“JOHN! I told you to sit there and –“

“Shut it, old man!” John bit back. “I can’t believe this; the whole time Lee was talking to Jefferson he was talking shit about Alex’s biological family.”

Washington stiffened, and Mrs. Lee gasped and turned to her son, “is that true?”

“Well, I-“ Lee begun.

“And when we were all pulled apart Adams called Alex a Caribbean Creolean bastard, and I’m no expert but that sounds like a pretty derogatory and racist comment if you ask me.”

This time Washington turned to Adams’ with anger and shock, but before he could say anything the pale man jumped from his chair and slammed Adams into a meticulously cared for bookshelf. The movement was almost too fast to follow and the noise of the action and falling books caused everyone to jump. It only took a moment before Adams began to let out gasping noises of pain.   

Alex jumped from his chair and to the man’s side, almost as if he had appeared there, and tried to pry his hands off Adams’ throat. “Let go, he isn’t worth it! Let go! Please stop!”

The man did, and Adams’ collapsed on the floor. Then he turned to Alex and yanked his arm, so he was turned towards the door. Pale man slammed open the door, causing the frosted glass to rattle, and stomped out.

Alex began to follow.

It took a second for Washington to snap out of his surprise and looked at Alex, “where are you going? Son, stay right there, don’t go with him.”

Alex paused with a hand on the door knob and turned his head to meet Washington’s eyes.

**_“ALEXANDER.”_ **

A shiver went through John as if he was blown by a frigid wind and his stomach turned like he ate something rotten. His father and the other people in the room had similar disgusted faces and Alex looked scared. Legitimately scared. Wide eyed and pale faced.

“If I were you, I’d be more worried about Adams’ dying from an allergic reaction on the floor,” Alex said hurriedly.

And then he was gone.

Attention shifted to Adams who was on his knees dry heaving painfully. Washington went down to his side. “Someone get Dr. Mann and call an ambulance!”

With three people not knowing where anything was in the school and Lee being a slow injured piece of shit, John ran out of the room and into the nurse’s office. He burst through the door and Dr. Mann looked up at him with a curious expression. “Adams is dying in the principal’s office!” The man snatched his emergency bag and the two sprinted back.

When him and Dr. Mann rushed back into the office only Washington and Adams’ were still inside, the others have been moved out. However, Washington had gotten Adams’ on his back whose neck was now covered in large hives and his breathing had become raspy.

While Dr. Mann quickly examined his patient, John dug through his back and found an EpiPen. God, it looked like Adams’ was getting worse, the noises sounded increasingly painful. He looked at the pen in his hand and the man on the floor and made the split-second decision to inject him in the thigh.

“John what are you doing?!” Dr. Mann yelled.

“I have medical training and he’s obviously having an allergic reaction to something!”

Dr. Mann nodded and took four cold packs out of his bag and gave one to him and Washington. “Put these on any place that looks red.” The cold packs were placed all over his skin especially over his now bare chest. For some reason it was a surprise to John when the paramedics showed up. The intensity of the moment it’s easy to forget that other people are capable of helping.

Adams’ was carted out by the paramedics alive (god, John never thought he would be happy to see Adams alive), and Dr. Mann joined them. Then, it was only Washington and John sitting on the floor of the office. Washington looked scrambled with his clothes slightly out of place and tiredly leaning against the front of his desk. “You did good son,” he said as he looked at John, “I’m proud of you.”

John gave him an exhausted smiled. It was no wonder that Alex always worked for his praise, it felt better than any type of encouragement he ever got from his own father. “Thank you, sir.”

They sat for another few minutes before Washington stood and dusted himself off. He extended a hand down to John, which he gladly took. They straightened up the room by fixing the books, papers, and chairs. Oddly enough, John picked up one of the shriveled red flowers that fell out of the vase and put it back with the others, which also looked quite withered.

Washington looked at him again when they finished, “well son, you can go home if you want, or you can stay here and finish classes for today. Tell Lee that we’ll finish this matter another time.”

“Yes, sir.” John went to leave but Washington coughed to gain his attention.

“Before you go, do you happen to know the name of Alexander’s new guardian?”

He paused. “No, Alex never said his name and neither did the man.”

Washington frowned, but nodded. Knowing he was dismissed, John left the room. He walked out to the main office area and told Lee what Washington said. To John’s mild surprise he didn’t see his father in the office.

Mrs. Lee gave him a pitied look, “do you need a ride home, dear?” From behind her Lee looked up and was about to protest when Mr. Lee put a hand on his shoulder and make a ‘shush’ motion.

“No thank you, miss. I’m going to wait for my friends to get out of class,” John responded.

“Okay, it was nice to see you again. Have a nice day,” she said. Her sad face lingered on him for a second before the Lee family left.  

John immediately went to the computer that controlled the office’s camera system. Most of the office staff was still distracted with the commotion from earlier so he wasn’t noticed. Sometimes, when the squad stayed after school Nelson would turn a blind eye as they watched the cameras and made fun of people.

He rewound the camera and saw Alex briskly walk out of the room and rewound it slightly to the point where Washington’s door slammed inward. He kept his eyes to the screen.

But nobody was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one didn't come out as good as I wanted it to, but it'll work. Please point out any misspellings, grammatical errors, or mistakes that you see, it makes me a better writer!


	7. Raise a Glass

Lafayette frowned into his tall, non-fat French vanilla latte, with a mountain of whipped cream and caramel drizzle. Not even the most spectacular coffee drink in the world could distract him from the sorry state of his friend group and family (and aren’t those be the same word at this point?).

He looked around his table at his two remaining friends who looked just as dower into their drinks. Hercules swirled his boring black coffee and John had not even touched his iced cinnamon almond milk macchiato. This was clearly disastrous, because John’s drink was topped off with two centimeters of cocoa powder and spice, which was his comfort flavoring, and yet he still did not consume.

“Assez de cette! On doit faire quelque chose!” Lafayette yelled and jumped from his chair. As he did so he thrust his fist in the air triumphantly which almost caused him to knock over his drink.

Luckily, his dear demigod was always looking out for him and straightened his cup. “For the half of your friends who don’t speak French,” Hercules deadpanned.   

“Really my dear,” Lafayette said with a roll of the ‘r’. “You should pick up another language, preferably my language, and I said that we need to do something.”

“Like?” Hercules asked. Lafayette puffed up his chest for a moment and opened his mouth. Hercules raised an eyebrow at his friend’s long pause. “This is pretty long for a dramatic pause, man.”

He held out for a few more seconds before deflating with an overdrawn sigh. “I do not know. What I do know is we need to figure it out rapidment. Our dear freckled angel has fallen and has become quite withdrawn.”

They turned their heads to John who still sat and stared at his drink blankly. “We can’t do anything about it. Alex hasn’t contacted us since the meeting and your parents already tried to contact child services.”

It was true, his amazing adoptive parents had tried to have a friendly discussion (about as friendly as the Revolutionary war) but it got them nowhere. Because they weren’t blood relatives (obviously) and they had no legal authority over the small lion the agency couldn’t give them an address. They did solemnly promise to send someone to check on him, though they haven’t heard back from them.

“We must do something more! Mon freckled angel, what do we have so far?”

John finally glanced up from his drink and let out a small huff. “So far? Well, we know that there is a tall creepy guy that’s been following him around for a while, we don’t have the guy’s name-“

“Non! I said the things that we know, not the ones we do not!”

“Fine.” John rolled his eyes, “the man is his new foster father, according to Lee he does drugs, Alex hasn’t contacted us in three weeks, and he still has five weeks of out of school suspension.”

“And that is all we know?”

“Yeah.”

“Merde! That mean we must come up with a plan to get more information, but from where? Hercules, an idea!”

Hercules raised a brow, “we could, ugh, get more coffee? That usually attracts Alex.” Lafayette looked at him with an exasperated expression and John even paused his depressed stance for a moment to give him a tired look.

“We’ve already tried that,” John pointed out, “why do you think there is a venti black coffee with five extra shot of espresso sitting at the head of the table?” Every day since the incident they’ve bought Alexandre’s favorite drink and put it in his usual spot. Then they’d sent a picture of it through the group chat. It used to do the trick, making le petit lion appear soon after the image was sent, but to no avail.

The three of them glanced down the table at the empty seat. “Sorry guys, but that’s all I got. I’m usually the sensible one that gets you two out of trouble.”

“He’s correct! Before Alex showed up, you were the groupe planner,” Lafayette said as he stared at John expectantly.

John let his head fall to the table weightlessly. “My plans aren’t any good without Alex,” he said muffled.

Lafayette walked over to his friend and rubbed his shoulders, “you shouldn’t say that mon amie, your plans are just as good as his. He’s went days without contacting us before during the summer, he’ll be back with us soon and you’ll be able to cuddle with him once more. That sounds nice, no?”

“I just miss him so much…”

“We know, buddy,” Hercules said as he rose from his chair. “I have a better idea, how about we go to the living room and watch a movie?”

“That doesn’t solve our problem…”

“No,” Lafayette said as he rubbed his shoulder’s harder, “but it will make us feel a little better.”

“Okay…”

“We’ll go get the good blankets,” Hercules said as he tugged him away from John. They only walked partially down the hallway before the handsome large man spoke up again, “we really need to find Alex, John’s on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

They opened the closet and took out three fluffy blankets. Lafayette almost got out the large scratchy quilt that Alexandre seemed to prefer but paused when he put a hand on the coarse material. “He is not at that point yet.”

“Dude, I saw him chug one of those coffees we got for Alex and then struggle to not cry aggressively afterwards for an hour.”

“…let us just watch his favorite movie for a little while. It will get his mind off of it.”

And so they did. They snuggled onto the couch and watched a movie musical, it was usually the thing to cheer John up. He obviously wasn’t into it though, he didn’t even sing his favorite song in the movie where the giant plant and the nerd man would have a duet. Lafayette understood though, the couch was less cozy now that they all fit comfortably on it. With Alexandre here, they were all cramped but happy and warm.

The phone rang suddenly which caused Lafayette to jump into Hercules’ lap. “Why hello there~”

Hercules actually cracked a smile and placed a large hand (Oui s'il vous plait) to hold Lafayette steady. “Hello to you to, princess,” he said in a low voice. Oui, oui, oui. Il est tellement parfait. Tall, broad shoulder, large, but the softest teddy bear. Lafayette moved one of his hands to rest a top of Hercules’ heartbeat. It was just as strong as he was.

Lafayette also darted his tongue out to wet his lips and was pleased when he saw Hercules’ eyes follow. The hand on his back tightened in grip and Hercules’ arm flexed to bring the Frenchman closer to him. A truly delightful thing to be held so preciously.

“Hey, not to interrupt, but that phone keeps ringing and I’m too lazy and depressed to move,” John said, cutting the moment.

It was true, the freckled boy was wrapped up in a rather sad blanketed burrito. Lafayette let out an overblown sigh and sprung from the couch and landed in a perfect dancer pose. He leapt and spun over to the home phone and picked it up. “Bonjour! You have reached the Washington résidence, what can I do for you?

“Hello Gilbert.” George’s voice carried strong through the phone. “It took awhile for you to answer, are the fo-three of you alright?”

“Oui! We were just being depressed and watching a musical!”

“…that sounds nice.” For a moment George pulled away from the phone, but Lafayette still heard a faint, “the youth of today.”

“So my dear father, why have you called the house?”

“I’m going over my end of the day routine and I can’t find my phone. Did I leave it at home this morning?” George asked.

“Let me check.”

In most days with Alexandre around, he helped George get ready for the day ahead and keep track of things. Recently, Lafayette saw his father use a worn looking list written in rushed swirled cursive that had an end of the day routine on it. With his father’s lack of technological skill, he also tended to misplace things like his phone in favor of using pen and paper.

He looked on one of the kitchen counters which was the station for at least twenty different charges that ranged from phones to the done they had. “It is charging on the counter still from last night.”

“Darn piece of plastic,” George grumbled. “Can you take it off the charger for me Gil?”

“Sure père.” His dear father was so cute, he just found out last month that you couldn’t leave it on the charger past one hundred percent without damaging the battery.

“Thank you, I’ll see you in a half an hour.”

“Bye!” Lafayette hung up the phone. His father’s phone turned on when it was taken off the charger allowing him to see the background which showcased the whole family. He picked up the phone to get a closer look at the picture of George and Martha in matching ugly red Christmas sweaters and his main friend group wearing what Hercules had picked out for them for the holiday. They were all also covered in popcorn from an earlier fight.

The picture was taken last Christmas and it was a relief that George had finally changed it out from the old picture from Patsy’s last birthday before she passed.

As he examined the happy memory an e-mail notification popped up and Lafayette swiped the phone open to check. When he opened the mail app he saw it was just junk, but something else caught his eye, an e-mail from Alexandre two days after the incident. Merde.

“FRIENDS!” Lafayette yelled as he ran back into the living room. Hercules perked up and John tuned his burrito wrapped body. “I have the e-mail that Alexander sent my father!” He held up the phone for the two to see.

“I don’t think it’s right to-“

“Read it!” John shouted.

Lafayette cleared his throat and read the letter aloud.

 

Dear Principal Washington,

  I greatly apologies on the behalf of myself and my patron for the display shown in your office two days ago. I assure you that the both of us are safe and hope that a one Mr. John Adams will make a speedy recovery from his allergic reaction. Now, we did not finish up the meeting in account of the medical emergency experienced, but a verdict must still be reached.

  As someone who has worked close to you for many months I believe that I can pass judgment and the type of punishment for such acts committed. For John Laurens, I believe that two weeks in out of school suspension is in order for hitting another student, but he should receive no more due to the taunts beforehand and that this is his only one altercation this year.

  As for my punishment, hitting a teacher is a serious crime that often results in the expulsions of the student involved unless there are dire reasons as to why this act was committed. I believe that this is one of those circumstances for Mr. John Adams, as John Laurens stated and many others can attest to, called me a ‘Creolean bastard’. Both of these terms are highly offensive one in a racial context and the other in a religious one. For this reason, I suggest that Mr. John Adams be placed on probation and have to be monitored in the classroom or have several observed teaching sessions to evaluate him.

  It would be a terrible thing if something like this got out on the internet and the proper measures were not taken to make sure an incident like this will not happen again. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Your Obedient Servant,

A.Ham.

 

“That’s it?” John questioned.

“Do you want me to read my father’s reply?” Lafayette asked, looking up.

“No, we already invaded his privacy enough,” Hercules reasoned.

“Always the voice of reason,” Lafayette said with a smile. “But now I have an idea! John, you said that during the incident and in George’s office Lee knew things about Alex, correct?”

“Yeah?” John said and perked up. “He knew a couple things about Alex’s guardian and stuff about his biological family.”

Lafayette hummed, “the family we will inquire about later. But first we need Lee to tell us where Alex is currently staying, then we can talk to him!”

Hercules raised an eyebrow, “you think that’s the best idea? From John’s story that guys seems pretty dangerous and Alex has been ignoring us.

“They would be no match for the three of us!”

The earthly demigod thought for a moment, “alright, but how will we get Lee to give us the information? He’s not gonna help us and we’re not in the position to threaten him.”

John snapped his fingers, “I bet if we asked nicely Mrs. Lee will tell us.”

“Yes!” Lafayette pumped his fist in the air that held his father’s cell phone. “I got it! We have Mrs. Lee tell us the address, we go over to the house, talk to him, and if he doesn’t listen to us, we’ll drag him back here where it is safe! What do you think?”

“I don’t think-“

“We should totally do it!” John interrupted.

“No, this isn’t-“

“Sorry, my sweet, but it’s two against one,” Lafayette said.

“Actually,” said a voice from behind them. Lafayette turned to see Martha walking up to him in her crumpled nurse gown. “My vote is with Hercules,” she said as she gently took the phone out of his hand.

He pouted, “sorry my dear mother, but that is still two vs two and we already made up our mind.”

“My vote carries more worth and you’re lucky I’m not going to punish you for going through your father’s phone,” Martha replied with an unimpressed look. “Now, dinner will be in an hour you three, no more scheming.”

“Okay Mom.”

“Have fun with the rest of your movie.”

The three sat back on the couch and paid half attention to the film before them, too distracted from their thoughts to watch the nerd fight a giant carnivorous plant and save the world. Lafayette glanced to his friend on the left, wrapped up in a depressed Mexican food style once more but now he had a bit more hope shining in his eyes. His mother may have barred them from scheming now, but they were a team (A GREAT TEAM) and they won’t let one of their compatriots fall so easily.

So, Lafayette had to bring it up at dinner. “Father?” he asked. George looked up from his plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and green beans that were all grown and raised on the large farm property.

“Yes Gilbert?”

“We were talking today, and we want to come up with a solution for Alexander.”

George gripped his fork tighter, “a solution?” he asked lightly.

“Yes, we, as in me and mes amies, are going to find out where he lives and bring him back here where he is safe.” Lafayette picked up his glass of red wine that Martha always served with dinner and took a sip to gauge his father’s reaction.

“No.”

Lafayette gaped, “but why? We must do something!”

“I agree Mr. Washington, I’m really worried about him,” John joined in.

“We’re all worried about him,” Martha responded. “But we have to rely on child services to do their jobs and Alex to come to us when he’s ready.”

“Child services is shit at their job and you know Alex is too stubborn to go to anyone for help,” Hercules interjected.   

“Dad please,” Lafayette pleaded. “He’s probably hurt. John said that guy was violent.”

The turmoil was only slightly visible on George’s face, and Lafayette knew the type of hurt that he was feeling. He already lost two children, one physically and the other familially, and he didn’t want to lose another. Lafayette really didn’t want to lose the only brother that he knew. “We’ll call child services again tomorrow and go from there.”

It wasn’t a solution now, but it was something at least. The trio nodded at George and raised their glasses in the air as a small toast to their win. Afterword, dinner was a much light affair. For dessert Martha made lovely chocolate three milk cake, which everyone was satisfied with. “John will you be staying here tonight?” Martha asked as they started to clean up.

His friends staying over was nothing new. Lafayette knew that he had, objectively at least, the ‘best’ parents. John and Herc were free to discuss their hobbies and preferences without being persecuted and sometimes, it was easier than being at home. After all, Lafayette couldn’t even step foot into Hercules’ house when his father was home. “No, I want go home tonight. Have to check on my little gremlins.”

“What a responsible young man, looking after his siblings,” Martha said with a smile. Then she started putting the left-over dinner in Tupperware containers, “now I know you have a nanny, but just in case take these home for them. Hercules, would you like some too?”

“If you have any left.”

With all the food packed up George grabbed his coat and the keys to his car, it may have been early may, but it was still brisk out. “I’ll drive you guys home.”

Martha decided to join them and with the car full it felt like a nice family adventure. They dropped Hercules and John at their respected dwellings, and dieu, Lafayette almost gave Hercules a kiss on the cheek goodnight but didn’t out of fear of Hercules’ father watching. It took a few minutes, but Lafayette noticed that as George was driving, he was going the wrong way home.

Eventually, George slid into a slow stop in front of a medium sized one-story house that looked worn down and in need to some minor repairs. It had a large bay window that had curtains that blocked a view from the inside, but you could still tell the room was lit inside, so someone was home. “George?” Martha asked.

“Gilbert, could you text Alex? If he comes out then we’ll take him,” George said slowly, ignoring his wife.  

Lafayette sent a quick text to Alex personally, but was dismayed to see that the number could not be reached. He frowned and sent the message through the group chat. They waited outside the house for ten minutes, until 7:45. There was no visible movement from inside. “George, I think it's time to go,” Martha said calmly.

“Just a few more minutes…”

“Okay,” she replied softly.

The three of them continued to stare at the doors and windows until eight o'clock before George finally gave up and started the ride home. Now the car was a cold type of silence. Hercules and John asked questions through the group chat, but he didn’t respond. Instead Lafayette looked out the window at the night scenery.

The trees were a nice mix of leaves and blossoms, multiple people jogging or walking their dogs, someone sleeping in a sitting position on a bus station bench. Attendez. “That was Alexandre!” Lafayette yelled, and George stopped the car abruptly.

“Where? Are you sure?” George asked quickly, his voice low.

“At the bus stop, I’m sure of it!”

The car turned around and they stopped at the station. It was made of glass and had a flickering incandescent light bulb overhead. Around the station the light and dark had a sharp contrast and high shadows but the hole torn jacket and the mane of curly brown hair was a dead giveaway. Lafayette jumped out of the car and engulfed his friend in a hug. Alexandre immediately squirmed in his grasp until he was able to struggle out of his arms.

When Alexandre jumped back he had glassy eyes and held one of his arms firmly. It took a moment for him to focus on his surroundings, “Laf? What are you doing here?”

“What am _I_ doing here? Why are you here and where have you been? Why haven’t you responded to any of our messages?!”

Alexandre took another step back and it almost seemed like he was about to bolt until he saw Martha and George rushing out of the car. “Alex!” Martha yelled and went to hug him, but this time Alexandre was able to jump away, and he backed up until he hit the glass.

“Son, are you alright?” George asked. He looked simultaneously relieved and concerned to see his fourth child.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just waiting for the bus to take me to the group home,” Alexandre responded. He still looked shook, but his lowered shoulders gave away a more relaxed posture.

Martha didn’t look convinced, “you don’t look fine. You’re all ruffled and you’re clutching your arm as if you’re trying to stop blood flow. And where is your jacket? It's too cold out here for this one!”

He gave her a tired smile, “Laf just scared me when he woke me up and I’m fine in this.”

Lafayette took a step towards him, “why don’t you stay with us for the night?”

“No thanks, I can just wait here. I’ll be fine.”

George placed a strong hand on Alexandre’s shoulder, “son, are you sure that’s what you want?”

Alexandre tried to look away, but no matter where he put his head he could still meet the eyes of one of his ‘family’ members. “When ever I leave my foster home, I’m supposed to go directly to the group home…”

“Honey, when have you ever followed the rules?”

“Heh. I guess you’re right.” Martha smiled and hugged him lightly and Lafayette joined in. After a moment Martha even pulled George into the little family huddle. Alexandre was shivering. They all piled back into the car and turned the heat up to maximum.

“You’ve been giving us quite a scare, young man,” Martha chided, “and I want to treat that injury you’re hiding when we get home, don’t you think I’m going to forget about that. And that reminds me, have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No.”

“George pull into a fast food place, I already gave all the left overs to John and Hercules and it’s better than nothing.”

“McDonalds! McDonalds!” Lafayette chanted. This caused Alexandre to smile faintly.

George chuckled, “sure.”

They had to take an even more indirect route from their house to get to the fast food chain and in the meantime the conservation remained light and airy. Well, until Lafayette mentioned something that Thomas had said during gym and then Alexandre shouted like it was a regular night. By the end of the rant they were all smiling.

When they all got their food (even Martha who was always ranting about the dangers of fast food) the car still didn’t stay quiet. Alexandre only paused to scarf down his food as if he hadn’t eaten in days (which Lafayette suspected wouldn’t be completely false) and to listen to Lafayette when he told him what was going on in school.

By the time they were finished the car felt warm, charged with positive emotions. Alexandre leaned on him as they began the journey to finally be home. Home with his whole family (the ones who mattered), what a bonne idée.

He didn’t want to dampen the good mood, but Lafayette had to ask, “Alex, will they give you back to him after you go back to the group home?”

From the mirrors he could see George and Martha tense. “No,” Alexandre responded.

“Are you sure?” Martha asked, she turned around to look at them.

Oddly enough, Alex didn’t look her in the eyes like he usually did. He stared straight at the clock in the car console and didn’t answer her. The clock flipped forward a minute, so it read 8:43, and that’s when he made eye contact.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter is filled with stuff I don’t normally do, from long dialogue sections to having a different language in it. Always good to try something new though. You don’t really need to translate the French, it isn’t important it just adds a bit of flavor to Lafayette. It’s also probably not grammatically correct, but that’s google translate for ya. If you’re confused about the number of children George and Martha have, I’m going into it next chapter. As always tell me what you like in the comments and how I can improve!


	8. Best of Wives

Alexander Hamilton was an odd child, and she’s treated a lot of odd kids in her time. A lot of kids with a lot of injuries that looked a lot like Alexander’s. When they all finally made it home the first thing that she did was get out her extensive first aid kit and politely (but sternly) told him to sit in George’s comfy living room chair. “C’mon kid, you need to take off the jacket.”

He huffed, as boys do, and shrugged off his much too thin sweatshirt to reveal a thin gash about three millimeters wide that had pieces of white debris in it. The wound had mostly clotted over, but it had reopened from him pulling the fabric of the jacket off it. Martha sighed and got out her pair of tweezers and some cotton balls soaked in hydrogen peroxide.

When she began to pick out the particulates the boy didn’t even flinch. He always did have a high pain tolerance. “So, you going to tell me what this is from?” She picked out a few more pieces and placed them on a table.

“Oh, you know,” Alexander responded casually. While she worked, he idly watched her, his own eyes going back in forth between her and his arm.

“Unfortunately, I have a few ideas, but I need your account to do anything about it,” Martha hummed as she dabbed the cotton ball on his arm again. With every gentle press the white fluff got slightly pinker.   

“No, it’s cool. Like I said in the car, it doesn’t really matter now.”

His arm had finally stopped bleeding and Martha spread Neosporin over the now closing wound. “Why? Because it’s getting so late and you don’t want to go to the police station?”

“Sure.”

The cut was finally treated, and she lessened her grip on his arm. Now they would just have to wait for the area to at least partially dry before putting on any bandages or gauze. “Would you like to tell me tomorrow?”

He looked very small in George’s green armchair, it almost reminded her of Jacky sitting in the same chair when she first got married. “Maybe. I’m just really tired.”

George walked in with a glass of ice water and gave it to Alexander. “That’s understandable, my boy, you and Gilbert should get some rest.”

“Where is he by the-“

“For the final time he is fine, Martha is treating him as we speak!” Gilbert yelled from the next room. “You can’t just come back to the house, we have school tomorrow, you can visit after!”

Martha watched Alexander’s reaction intently. His mouth which had remained fairly neutral to this point turned down slightly and his eyes softened in a sad, tired manner. They had all seen how devastated John was for the last couple days while his not so secret love was MIA. If Alexander had listened to any one of his voicemails, then he would know, and he most likely felt abhorred from his uncharacteristic silence.    

They watched Gilbert argue on the phone until he gave a hasty goodbye in French and pressed the hang up button. Then he swaggered over to them and let out a theatrical over the top breath and dropped to Alexander’s side to engulf him in his arms. It was funny that Gilbert always knew just when to let go, as if he could time the exact moment when Alexander’s tolerance for physical affection ran out.  

He did keep a hand on Alexander’s shoulder as he pulled away, “I’m very glad to have you back where you belong, brother.” Gilbert’s accent remained thick and his eyes were watery.

She saw a flash of fear go through Alexander in the form of tense shoulders but recovered soon after. “It’s nice to be back.”

“I think we’ve all had a very exciting day today and we should all get some sleep. Especially you two,” Martha said as she pointed at George and Gilbert. “You both have school tomorrow.”

Gilbert groaned, and George’s brow became creased, which she found adorable. “Does that mean that I get to stay up as late as I want?” Alexander asked jokingly.

“You wish little man,” Martha said and ruffled his hair, “I’m taking the day off tomorrow, so we can go to the group home and get things sorted out.”

The playfulness disappeared immediately. “No, you don’t have to do that Mrs. Washing-“

“Yes, we do need to do this. If you don’t report it then they will send you back there. Besides it’ll be nice for me to get out of that damn hospital for once.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’ from any of you,” Martha sternly. “Now get your butts to bed.”

Now all three of her boys groaned and they marched upstairs. When she finished her nightly routine an hour later (she took a shower after George) Martha decided to check on her boys. She first decided to look in on Alexander because the boy always had a habit of staying up too late on his phone or with a new book. That’s why she approached the door slowly and with minimal sound because the little bugger always pretended to sleep to get out of trouble.

She opened the door gradually, and gasped while she had a minor heart attack. It looked like someone long, lanky, and shrouded in the shadows was standing over him while he slept. “Hey!” Martha yelled and jumped through the doorway. When she opened the door further, light poured in from the hallway and after her eyes adjusted to the shift in light, she noticed the figure wasn’t there.

Martha stood motionless in the room. All that happened was that Alexander shifted in bed so that he wasn’t facing the her anymore. It was just her imagination then, just a trick of the light. She eyed the sleeping boy for a moment, his chest rose and fell nice and steady, so she knew he wasn’t faking it. She almost stepped in the room to fix the blanket that was only half on him but decided against it. She already made a noise and a disturbance like that would likely wake him.

After she exhaled the breath she didn’t know she was holding, Martha closed the door and went across the hall to Gilbert’s room. He was curled up in the middle of his queen-sized bed squeezing a teddy bear his biological parents gave him to his chest. It’s a special object for that reason, but also because Hercules made different clothes for the bear when he was first learning how to make different sized apparel.  

Everything looked like it was supposed to, no shadow figures or anything out of place, so she closed the door. She was about to go back to her room when she paused. The house did feel a little cold and she thought back to how Alexander’s covers were off. So, Martha went back in his room to tuck him in, but as she peered in she saw that the covers were already all the way up to his neck.

It looked like he was already tucked in but in a way that someone half asleep wouldn’t be able to do, it was too neat. One last look around the room revealed nothing. It wasn’t hard to survey the area in any rate, it may have been Alexander’s designated bedroom whenever he stayed over, but there was nothing personal in it. She huffed, no piece of furniture or possession looked like it could create a shadow anyway.

For that reason, it was hard to sleep that night.

The morning was a tired and hurried affair filled with French curse words and random papers being passed around. For someone who had been missing from the family for three weeks it was like he never left. He got all of George’s things in order, helped Gilbert rush parts of his homework, and even reminded them to take their cellphones at the last minute.

Then they left, George and Gilbert in one car, her and Alexander in the other. “You know, you really didn’t have to do this. I can go alone,” Alexander said a few minutes into the drive.

“I already told you that it's fine. I don’t want you doing this alone either, I want to make sure that no one is going to take advantage of you.”

He snorted, “you really think I would let someone take advantage of me?”

“No, but I’m sure you know by now that they have a way of phrasing things and putting people into little organized boxes. I’ve dealt with this shit before with Gilbert and they change their tunes a bit when someone is there to defend you.”

When she glanced over to him she saw that he was looking down at his lap. “I don’t need to be defended.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s still nice to have someone else there. George and I should have done this ages ago anyway.”

The car ride went back to an uncomfortable silence. He didn’t seem angry or defensive that she wanted to do this, but he was a bit weary, if not a bit scared. That was an emotion that seemed to shine through his usual carefully blank (or angry) expression as of late. “Hey kid, would you like to stop for some coffee?”

“We just had some at home?”

“Eh, it ain’t got shit on Dunkin’ and I’m surprised to hear you’re going to turn down some free caffeine,” Martha said as she pulled into the parking lot.   

That’s all it took for him to get his extra large whatever. Him and Gilbert always had such complicated orders, probably since Gilbert was the one to introduce him to something other than the purest black roast. The rest of the ride was filled with idle chit chat about the new books and articles he was reading about in the paper. The boy really seemed to perk up with coffee flowing through his veins, like most people she supposed.

Apparently, he had already gotten through most of the school work that his teachers assigned him during his leave of absence. Not a surprise, what was however was that he had a difficult time completing the assignments that had to be online. He wasn’t allowed to use his foster father’s computer and nowadays he tended to stray away from the public library. Interesting.

When they got to the house the talking continued, but now she told him about some of the patients that she had lately. There was only so much she could discuss of course, with doctor patient confidentiality, but he seemed enrapt in her stories. Especially the ones where the people almost died but somehow beat death.

“Mrs. James should be alright, but you can never be too careful with older people. A broken hip is no laughing matter and she’ll still need to be supervised,” Martha finished.

“You said she had no family though, right? Who’s going to check on her?” Alexander questioned. For whatever reason he also liked to know as much about these patents as possible. Probably because he was a writer and needed every detail.

“Oh, she only lives three houses down, I don’t mind. She’s a nice old woman anyway.”

“You know, you should sit down and tell some of these to John. He’d really appreciate them,” Alexander brought up as they were seated to meet his case worker.

“I’ll tell you and the boys more later, if you want.”

The door to the room opened and an older gentleman stepped through. “Hello Father Knox,” Alexander greeted politely.

“Hello to you too, my boy. I wish we would be able to talk more often, but that’s just how our lord wants to have it. And hello to you too Mrs. Washington, I hope this visit is better than out last meeting.”

Thank god it was. Last time they had seen each other was because Alexander was in the hospital with the worst case of pneumonia she’d ever seen. The man was listed as his guardian and apparently, Father Knox immigrated with him to the country. It was also the first time she saw Alexander’s file, and by all accounts the boy really shouldn’t be here right now.

“I hope it goes better, but we’re not here for the best reason,” Martha answered.

“Oh? Alexander is there something wrong with your latest placement? Or is it something with school again?”

“My foster father did drugs, stole my stuff to pay for it, and he was physical with me,” Alexander responded nonchalantly, but also looked somewhat tense as he looked Father Knox in the eyes.

The old man blinked, “is that so? Well, usually these things are far less upfront. I’ll get someone to go over there and check the situation and they’ll report back in seventy-two hours at the latest for their opinion on the matter.”

“No offense Father but save the spiel. We’ve been wanting one of your people to check on him for the past three weeks. Thank god we found him when we did. You know I needed to patch him up last night?” Martha said as she pointed to Alexander’s arm.

He frowned, “what happened? Alexander did you get into another fight?” Alexander’s answer was interrupted by a phone ring in the office. The old rotary phone screamed before the equally as old man picked it up. “Hello this is Father Knox of Our Lady of Snows Group Home; how may I help you on this blessed afternoon?”

Through the call Father Knox hummed and kept saying ‘I see’ before he hung up. He looked the pair in the eyes. “Well, that was the lady that was going to check on you Alexander and she found your current foster father slumped over in the bathroom with a needle in his arm. Dead.” He quickly performed a small prayer.

“Oh, dear lord,” Martha gasped. She looked over to Alexander who appeared shocked, but she could tell that the surprise wasn’t too large. As if he knew something like this would happen.  

“And apparently the police would like to see Alexander on the account that he was probably the last person to see the man alive and his last three placements had all passed away while caring for him.” Then he added, “bless their souls.”

“That is ridiculous, we had him all day yesterday,” Martha defended.

“It’s okay,” Alexander said with a sigh, “this was bound to happen eventually.”

Martha sighed, “I think questioning this young man is silly, but I suppose we need to go. But Father, do have the fostering forms ready by the time we’re done.”

Father Knox looked at her with surprise. “If you’re sure, I can have the paperwork ready by this afternoon, but I would need both your signature and your husbands, of course.”

“That would be lovely. Now that that’s settled, let's get down to the police station,” she said as she looked to Alex.

The boy looked at her with shock and a bit of worry. “Yes, lets go.” They got to the car and rode in it silently even through Martha’s prompts for conversations. It was much of the same thing when they were in the police station. A policeman guided him to a back room and stopped Martha when she tried to follow.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but he must be questioned alone,” He said as he blocked the door.

“But he’s a minor,” she protested.

“True, but only a designated legal guardian would be allowed with him in there, and his last one is laying in the morgue as of right now.”

With a huff she waited outside in the main room of the building until they released Alexander forty-five minutes later. “We’ll call you if we need to see you again, Mr. Hamilton,” one said.

And then they were back in the car. Silent as ever. “Are you alright? I hope they didn’t interrogate you too much, did they?”

“It was fine. They may call you or Mr. Washington in later, I said I was with you guys at between the times of eight and nine o'clock last night.”

“Noted. I know it’s their job and you’ve been violent in school before, but I don’t think you would ever kill someone.”

Another bout of silence. “I hope you don’t mind, but I put down your home phone number in case they needed to talk to me again,” Alexander said. He looked tired as if all the energy gained by the coffee was gone.

She ignored his silence from her last remark. “Of course I don’t mind, sweetheart. I understand why you wouldn’t want to use your cellphone number.”

“I don’t have a cell phone anymore.”

The first thought that went through her head was: What? Why? But then she thought back to what Alexander said to Father Knox about his last foster father. “We have time before George and Gilbert get home from school, would you like to get a new one?”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“It’s necessary.” She took a sharp left-hand turn and she may or may not have almost caused an accident. “Oh good, there is a Best Buy in this lot as well.”

“Why do we need to go in there?”

“I need to pick something up for George,” she hummed.

The phone store took as long as she thought it would. As in it took three hours to get through, even if there were only four people in front of them. The damn paper work and salesmen always made it a long meticulous process. When they finally got out of the accursed technology store, they went into another accursed technology store. Yay.

Fortunately, and thank god, this one took much less time to make it though. She picked up a new charger for George’s phone, so he could have one at work and they walked down to the computer section. “Alright Alexander, pick which one you want.”

“No, Mrs. Washington this is too much. You already-“

“I’m your guardian now and getting my son a new phone and a computer isn’t too much. Besides we can’t go out to get you new clothes today, it’s getting late.”

He looked down and examined the selection of computers and fidgeted as he did so. Sometimes he would look at a sleek new rectangle as if he was preparing for a test on the machine later, but then he would see the price and put it down. Eventually they walked down to the end of the row and he chose one for three hundred dollars. “This one is acceptable.” He struggled to meet her eyes just as much as the machinery was struggling to stay together.

“It’s a piece of refurbished shit. I know you’re uncomfortable with this, but you can pick one of the better ones. As long as it's not more than five grand and you promise not to spend all night on it, you’re good.”

It took him a minute, but he put down the shitty computer. Then he walked over to one of the new ones, a hp computer that went for twenty-six hundred. As they walked to the checkout counter Alexander clutched the box to his chest.

Martha made polite conversation with the elderly gentleman working the checkout counter. He rang them up slowly and talked on about his retired life and that he took this job to pass the time. “Your total is $2743.45, will you be paying in cash or credit?”

She dug through her hand bag and gave him her Visa card. He swiped it for her and from the corner of her eye she saw Alexander visibly wince as the transaction passed through. When they got back to the car, he began to clutch the bag again. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all day.”  

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did. What I want to know is why you think that you don’t deserve these things?”

Alexander looked taken back by the question. “It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t seem to stay in one place for long and I don’t want you to waste your money on me.”

It was the answer that she knew he was thinking, but not the one she thought he was going to say out loud. “Alexander, you are not a waste of money or time or anything.”

“It’s not a waste to you to take care of someone who won’t stick around?”

“Why do you think that you won’t stick around? You’ve been here for two years and now that you’ll be with us, I don’t see you going anywhere anytime soon.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” Martha said with conviction. “We’ve never kicked you out before Alexander, and that won’t change when we sign a paper.”

“What if you leave? As you’ve heard, death follows me.” His voice withered as he said this as if he was about to break down.

She took a deep breath and pulled over to the side of the road. A conversation like this was not the type to have while having to focus on the road. “Honey, I know it may seem like that sometimes but it’s not true. It’s a little different for you, but most people don’t see this many people close to them pass away until they’re older. Years like this are uncommon and it’ll change soon.”

“But what if something happens to you or Mr. Washington or Laf?”

“We’re all in perfectly good health.”

“One day you may not be, it happens all the time, and then…” He was shaking and looked close to breaking down in tears.

Slowly, Martha leaned over from her seat to bring him into an (admittedly awkward) hug. “I know how you feel, I experienced this when Patsy passed away from epilepsy and suddenly, I lost more patients than ever. I know it’s hard, but you need to move past it. For your own sake.”

Alexander slowly put his arms around her and stayed silent.

“You’re not going anywhere, and neither are any of the people you care about anytime soon,” she soothed.  

When she pulled away, he looked slightly disheveled and had a bit of dread in his eyes. When she turned the key to start up the car, she could have sworn she heard Alexander whisper, “you don’t know that.”

Luckily, they were only a short drive away from home and arrived just an hour after school let out. It was a long and exhausting day, but Martha was glad to spend it with Alexander, her new on paper, old in terms of attachment, son.

When they drove up, she saw the front window curtains rustle and what looked like a dark figure waiting behind it. As soon as they got out of the car the door to the house immediately slammed open and John Laurens ran towards them. Alexander only had enough time to gently place the Best Buy package on the ground before he was picked up, spun around, and clutched tightly. The other two boys quickly made their way over to them and congealed into a group hug.

Their group fell over in a pile on the lawn to make a puddle of teenagers consisting of tears and multiple rapid-fire languages. While that was going on Martha made her way to George, who was on porch watching their growing family with delight. “How long have you guys been waiting?”

“Oh, I got home few minutes ago, but I glanced at the attendance today and the boys left after their lunch period.” They shared a laugh at the boy’s antics and George wrapped an arm around her waist. “Did you have a good day with Alexander?”

“Well we went to Dunkin Donuts, the group home, the police station, the phone store, and Best Buy. Very busy today.”

George wrinkled his brow. Something about his slightly bushy eyebrows and bald head made him look cute. “Why were you two at the police station?”

“I’ll tell you later tonight, but now we need to go down to the group home. I asked Father Knox to have the fostering forms ready by the afternoon. I know it’s a big decision that I didn’t consult you on, but-“

He held her tighter and his eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes really.”

“I think it was an excellent decision darling,” George said stressing his southern accent and he pulled her in closer for a long, sweet kiss. “I’ll drive and let’s go out for a nice family dinner afterwards.”

Martha looked up to her husband and smiled lovingly, but from the corner of her eye she spotted that same shadow from before still in the window. George turned his attention back to the children and she leaned forward to get a better look, but with a blink it was gone. Must have been another trick of the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be so much more to this one, but it was getting kinda long, so now this story is going to be one chapter longer. Neat.


	9. The Right Hand Son

Mount Vernon was an old large home bordering on a plantation mansion built in his ancestor’s time. So, when Martha’s children left them the house felt too big, too empty, especially for George considering his beloved always got home late. With Alexander, Gilbert, John, and Hercules in the house it just made the space feel more lived in and it felt _right_ for them all to be here.

At home.

Since Alexander came home the two boys that weren’t his on paper had stayed over for days in a row. This also culminated in more people coming over the house from Alexander’s worst enemy and Gilbert’s best fake French friend, Thomas Jefferson, to Aaron Burr (at Alexander’s request and Gilbert’s detest) along with the Schuyler sisters. Even if they had enough rooms to accommodate everyone during sleepovers the group always ended up tangled into each other on the floor or strewn about the furniture.

It was nice to have a big and happy home.

Though when all the commotion and the constant barrage of people calmed down a bit (but still at a minimum of three sleepover a week) George began to notice a few things. Previously, Alexander had always had stints of staying at Mount Vernon to the point where he almost lived here but living with the small boy fulltime was surprisingly different.

Like that very morning.

When there were no sleep overs going on it was a normal day in the household each family member started the day differently. Martha was usually called back to her job in the middle of the night or very early in the morning, Gilbert tended to sleep to the last second, and George liked to wake up at around five in the morning. George walked down the stairs and went to turn on the Keurig machine but noticed that it was already warmed up.

He yawned and glanced over to the kitchen table where Alexander was sitting silently reading the newspaper with only one light on above him. He was already dressed and had a coffee next to an open notepad. Only when George flipped a few more light switches did Alexander look up, his new reading glasses framed his face well.

“Good morning, Mr. Washington,” Alexander said respectfully.

He almost sighed at his last name. No matter how many times he told Alexander to say his first name (like he mostly did with Martha) the boy never did. It was a little better than Martha’s oldest, John (nicknamed Jacky) who only called him George in a very curt voice. “Good morning to you too, son. Anything interesting in the paper?” He sat down across the table, in an already pulled out chair, from his boy with two breakfast scones.

Alexander stiffened at the word ‘son’ but still took one of the pastries. “Nothing much. Slow news day.”

“Slow enough to take notes?” George joked. He bit down on his own pastry and focused on the notebook. Other than a name (a Mr. Patrick Henry), he couldn’t make out any of the words. He furrowed his brow (a terrible habit that Martha loved) and wondered if his eyes had finally started to go.

“It’s not your eyes, old man, I just write my important documents in shorthand Creolean,” Alexander explained.

George ignored the old man comment, “is that why Nelson and the other secretaries couldn’t read some of your notes and files when you were away?”

He hummed, and the coffee machine sounded signaling the completion of George’s morning cup of joe. He usually enjoyed tea, but nowadays the house always smelled like coffee and it made the senses ache for it. Alexander put down his paper and rose smoothly from the table to get it for him.

“Thanks, my boy.” George really was grateful; his knees weren’t so great from years of being a hardy woodsman and his military service.

“Don’t mention it,” Alexander responded while pouring the perfect amount of creamer. The other boys liked to joke that Alexander was his secretary or personal assistant, and while those are apt titles, he was much more than that.

They spoke idly until Gilbert tumbled his way down the stairs, his hair messy and still half asleep. Then it was George’s turn to read the paper while Alexander and Gilbert spoke about school and other things. Mainly them teasing each other about their respective crushes (Alexander adamantly denying his attraction and Gilbert gushing about his).

By the time they were almost ready to go Alexander put that strange notebook away and George had finally found where that name was in the paper. The obituary.

Unsettling, to say the least. George rationalized that perhaps the boy was looking for his old foster parent or someone else. If he was hard pressed, George would admit that that was only one of the things that had unsettled him lately.

Recently, there always seemed to be something around. In the corner of George’s eye, just out of reach there was a shadow. Tall, dark, and always in a low-lit area like near the front curtains or in the living room corner. George wasn’t a religious man (he hadn’t been in a long time, not since the military) but something was making him tense.

It was a thought for another time though because he and Gilbert needed to get to school. Since Alexander was supposed to be suspended, he stayed home about two days of the week, and the other three he acted as George’s assistant by managing meetings and helping with paperwork. On the days his boy stayed home he often cleaned the house and used George’s extensive library in his study.

That was where they had expected to find Alexander when they got home, but he was nowhere to be found. “Alexandre! Your magnificent brother has arrived and wishes to greet you properly!” Gilbert called out. No one answered and there was no noise from anywhere in the home. “Alexandre?”

Still nothing. Not only that, but the house felt emptier than usual. There was no prickle in the back of George’s neck that he had been slowly getting used to making the situation even more unsettling. “Alexander,” George said evenly.

“What if something’s happened to him?” Gilbert panicked.

“I wouldn’t go that far, he may just be asleep.”

“He doesn’t sleep!”

“Let’s just look around the house,” George said in a calm voice and then added, “together.”

And so, they went from room to room starting with the living area to the bedrooms upstairs and still there was no sign of him. Through their little search Gilbert tried to call Alexander’s phone but he didn’t pick up or answer any text messages. They didn’t even hear the ringtone.

“What if he’s dead!” Gilbert panicked.

Even if Gilbert tended to be quick to the draw, George would be lying if the sentence didn’t send a slash of horror through his body at the thought, but instead he took a deep breath. “He may just be outside or taking a walk and forgot to put his ringer on.”

“But what if-“ Gilbert was cut off by a loud thud that indicated something just hit the ground. “That came from downstairs.”

“Stay here,” George commanded as he swiftly made his way down the stairs. Not that he considered himself the typical American who got their gun out at the slightest bit of trouble, but his did quickly grab his hunting rifle from his closet.

He tread lightly to make sure that the old house didn’t make a sound and did a sweep of the kitchen, den, and dining room. When he got to the living room he looked down at the person on the floor. “Son, why are you laying on the living room floor?”

Alexander looked up at him a bit dazed, “why do you have a rifle?”

“You scared Gilbert and me. Are you alright, son?” George asked. His boy still looked confused, splayed on the floor, his hair messy, and he was wearing that ungodly jacket that had a million holes in it. “And why aren’t you wearing any of your new sweaters?” Martha had taken another day off to take the boys shopping because the only clothing that Alexander had came from his small beat up suitcase.

“I’m fine, I just fell. And I _like_ this jacket.” He finally pushed himself up with his elbows and rubbed his head.

“Alexandre!” Gilbert yelled. Then immediately he was at Alexander’s side and hugging him. “We couldn’t find you and we were worried. You shouldn’t hide from us like that!”

The dazed look came back, “ah, sorry Gilbert.” He wrapped an arm around his brother and then looked at George, “I won’t do it again, sir.”

He almost brought up the fact that Alexander didn’t have to be so formal with his foster father but let the title slide. Gilbert continued to cuddle his brother on the floor and it brought a smile to George’s face. Unfortunately, that prickled feeling came back suddenly which caused him to look around. He saw nothing, but it felt like something was there.

That night he brought it up to Martha when they were getting ready for bed. She gave him a sympathetic smile, “you know sometimes I’ve thought the same thing when I check on Alexander when he's sleeping.”

“Oh?” George frowned. “Why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I thought it was just me seeing things from being too tired or stressed from work. Perhaps you’re stressed too.”

“Or we need to call the priest.”

Martha crinkled her nose cutely. “Don’t think we need to go that far. Perhaps we both just need to relax.”

George sighed in defeat, “I’ll try. You know he still won’t call me anything other than Mr. Washington or sir? I’ve known the boy for almost two years now and he’s still stiff around me.”

“Does he seem afraid of you?”

“Only when I’m stern.”

She thought for a moment, “he’s been through a lot, and it’s going to take some time for him to think of you as a father or say that you are like one to him out loud.”

He sat on the bed and massaged his head lightly, “Alexander has called Gilbert ‘brother’ a few times, and don’t think I didn’t hear him call you mother at least once. He’ll even call you by your first name at the very least, but he refuses to get close to me.”

“He was sick when he called me that,” Martha brought up. She clapped once and gasped, “You know, I think you and Alexander need to do some father son bonding activities.”

George froze. “Honey, he doesn’t even like me calling him son, and we already spend a lot of time with each other at school.”    

Martha sat on the bed beside him and leaned into George’s side. “Yes, but that’s mostly work. When’s the last time you discussed something that didn’t have to do with politics, school, or was just idle conversation?”

A long time. Probably since the mess a few weeks ago, which none of them had ever gotten a full explanation on. It was finally May and the temperatures were finally starting to rise and the weather in general was getting to be delightful. “Do you think a fishing trip would do?”

His lovely wife’s mouth curled up into a beautiful smile. “I think that is a perfect father son activity. You should bring Gilbert with you too, so it’ll be a little boy’s day out. I’ll even pack you guys a nice lunch.”

He turned his head and kissed her perfect lips. “It’ll be a fine time.”

And it was…a disaster. The Saturday after that conversation George returned home early with his boys, and they were hungry, tried, and slightly damp. Martha approached them with concern and amusement, “what happened to you boys?”

Gilbert laughed (he was the only one of the three in a good mood) and opened the refrigerator. “Well, my dear mother, you know how I invited Thomas on our outing?”

“Yes?”

And George walked upstairs because he didn’t really want to hear the rest of the tale. The day was supposed to be just a trip with him and his boys, but Gilbert had thought it would be a great idea to extend an invitation to Thomas Jefferson. Which if it was just the two of them wouldn’t be a problem, he would only have to listen to the young man’s narcissism and stories about Madison. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

However. Alexander and Thomas can’t get along when they are in a classroom together, no less a small cramped boat with five people squeezed in it. The fifth person was Aaron Burr, surprisingly enough. Since Gilbert had invited a friend (without George’s whereabouts) it was only fair that Alexander got to call someone up, and to everyone’s surprise he chose Aaron, not John.

“He was my first friend when I came here, and it would be nice to have him around,” Alexander had said at the time.

Now, it’s not like he had something against the boy, he and Alexander were actually a lot alike, right down to the fact that Aaron always strove to impress him. Meanwhile, Thomas and Alexander argued in the car. They argued on the lake shore. And then they argued in the small boat until Alexander had pushed his rival out of the boat and into the water.

While it was mildly funny, George had scolded his boy for improper behavior and told him to help Thomas back in the boat, which lead to Thomas pulling him into the water. The whole mess culminated in the boat capsizing along with their fishing equipment and nicely prepared lunches.

The only blessing was that the ride home was quite as everyone’s moods were dampened, except Gilbert.

The day wasn’t even over, but George just wanted to get out of his poorly dried clothes, and take a shower. On his way to his own room, he noticed the door to Alexander’s was suspiciously open. Odd, considering the boy was always very particular about his door being closed, and generally no one went inside unless invited.

Light from the hallway poured in and revealed a suspiciously opened suitcase in the middle of his floor. It was an item that the boy brought with him from his last dwelling and apparently it had been everywhere Alexander had been. Martha wanted to throw it out when she first saw the miserable looking position.

They had bought him another, but Alexander hadn’t touched it. “I like it and it’s still usable,” Alexander had said.

Barely. It was old and scuffed in every way possible way, missing a wheel, and had tape covering areas that had been slashed open. When they asked him about the tape Alexander had said that his last foster father was rather adamant about getting in. The man had to knife his way through the front because it was usually closed and locked together by two huge padlocks.

Something overtook George and he walked into the room and right to the suitcase. What he saw inside was odder than the boy himself. There was an assortment of random objects packed into a bergening space with mild organization and sorting.

A pair of new boots, an almost new suit jacket, a snow globe from New York, a dog collar, multiple fancy pens, cans of food, a bottle of pills, a dried snapdragon, bullets, and many other things. That was just the assortment on top, he gently took the top flap in his hand to get a closer look, and in the zipper part was jewelry. Tens, if not a hundred pieces of jewelry ranging from watches to necklaces.

George swallowed and reached for the zipper to examine some of the pieces. His hand was no more than a few centimeters away when he felt that feeling again, the one where the hair stood at the back of his neck, like he was being watched. He jumped when a cold wave washed over him, as if he had just fallen into the frigid lake from earlier, but there was no one there.

With his heart pounding he examined the room further. Still no one. When he turned back to the suitcase, he found it closed. It was odd that it had fallen that way when he let go, considering the weight of the things packed inside. The cold not only put him on edge, but it made him feel guilty for almost invading his son’s personal belongings. He left the room without looking back and went to take a nice hot shower.  

While in there he reflected on his day. Sure, it had been an objective disaster, he and Alexander didn’t really get a chance to talk because Alexander was arguing with Thomas, and George was busy acting as a father figure to Burr. It did make for a funny story he could tell others about his wreck of a bonding experience.

No one even had the chance to catch a fish.

He laughed to himself and reflected on the experience fondly, but then he remembered Alexander’s face on the car ride home. Dejected and worried. So, when he finished his shower and changed into his night clothes (Martha had said he looked cuddlier and less threatening) George went to Alexander’s door.

“Alexander, may I come in?”

There was some shuffling and sliding noises from the room. “You may, sir.”

Ouch. George opened the door to see Alexander in the same clothes that he was wearing all day. The computer that Martha had bought him was on his bed charging and he had a book in his lap. “Son, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Alexander stiffened and closed his book. “Yes sir?”

“Do you mind if I sit down?”

“No sir.” He shuffled over to make room for George.

“Now, I’ve wanted to speak to you about something important for some time now-“

His eyes widened with fear, “I uh, really don’t need this talk, sir. I’ve learned enough already.”

“What?”

“I know, wear a condom, use lube, be safe. I’m all good. We don’t need to do this,” Alexander said quickly. His cheeks were also a little flustered.

George’s face turned to one of slight humor and surprise, “no, no Alexander that’s not what I wanted to speak to you about. Though, now that you mention it, we should have that talk too.”

“Nope. We’re not doing that. What did you come in here for again?”

For another time then. “It’s also about the trip we took today. Did you have a good time? Be honest.”

He fidgeted, “I ruined it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did. I couldn’t stop yelling at Jefferson long enough for you and Laf to spend any quality time together.” He looked down, ashamed.  

“With Gilbert? Alexander that trip was for all of us,” George affirmed.

Alexander looked confused. “Was it? That’s usually a thing that father’s and sons do, right? Fishing?”

“Yes, that’s why I invited both of you.”

The boy was frozen, and he swallowed. “You invited me so Lafayette could bring another friend.”

George sighed, “no Alexander. I wanted this to be a family outing.” He looked stressed and scared as if his whole world had been turned upside down. “I call you son for a reason.”

“You call me son because it’s part of your weird southern talk,” Alexander shot back. There were tears forming in his eyes and he was shaking. His boy never looked so small.

“I call you son because I want you to feel a part of this family.”

“Why?” he demanded.

George took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. Alexander moved a fraction farther away from him but didn’t flinch or knock the hand off. “When I first came into this family, I felt like an outsider too. Martha had recently lost her husband and I wasn’t around for Patsy or Jack’s first words or steps or anything.”

He had to stop for a moment, thinking of his previous child and charge made his throat tighten. It only took a year or so for Patsy to fully accept him as part of the family and it pained him unimaginably to think of her quietly going to sleep for the last time as George held her hand. Jacky never was or will be his child, no matter how much time they spent together through fishing trips, vacations, or holidays. They were just too different, and they didn’t have the same connection he had with Gilbert or Alexander.

“It’s isolating to come into a preexisting structure and I don’t want you to feel like that with any of us. You’re not just a secretary, a student, or a friend of my son, you are another son to Martha and I.”

Alexander was shaking harder and tears were about to slip from his eyes which made George afraid that he had said something wrong. Until the small boy rocketed into his chest. He let out an ‘umph’ when the wind was knocked out of him, but George wrapped his arms tightly around Alexander. The boy of many words was silent, and George couldn’t feel any better for finally being (at least partially) accepted by his new son.

Even if that rush of cold and feeling of being watched surrounded him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be all Martha's chapter but I like how it turned out in the end with George and Alex. I think if this was just a foster care Au I would have gone into more of George's feelings of inadequacy as a father, but eh, not what we're here for. 
> 
> And hey, look at that suitcase that finally got brought up again. Freakin' took me long enough.


	10. Discrimination, but not between Sinners and Saints

“Bye Daddy!” Peggy and her sisters called out. Philip Schuyler smiled in a way that made his wrinkles show and waved at them goodbye. He only drove away when he saw his little girls reach the door and be greeted by Martha Washington.

“Hello girls, you’re the last to arrive.” The older woman said sweetly.

“Yeah, we just had to go over the rules with Dad again before we left,” Angelica said first with an eye roll.

“Come now Angelica, he means well,” Eliza piped up.

Angelica sighed in exasperation, “I know, but it gets old. I’m almost an adult I don’t need to be told that I need to be careful around the boys and to not go outside when it's dark.

Mrs. Washington laughed good naturedly, “does he not think that George and I will be supervising tonight?”

Eliza brought a strip of her hair up to her nose as they walked through the mansion’s halls with their color coordinated bags. “I know the Washington’s will be supervising you kids,” she said in a low voice.

“But I just want my little princesses to be safe,” Peggy added, copying her sister’s actions and mocking voice.

“You’re in the safest place in all of Virginia.”

“Yeah,” Angelica snorted, “we got a room full of the strongest gays on this side of the Mississippi.”

After a laugh they parted ways with Mrs. Washington, so she could finish dinner and they could join the boys in the living room. It was a beautiful Friday night and they decided to have this one to celebrate Alexander’s first full week back in classes. Additionally (and almost more impressively), it was his first full week in a long time that had no physical or verbal altercations.

So that’s neat.

It didn’t mean that none of that going on right now though. When the sisters approached, they saw Alexander and Thomas arguing adamantly over the correct spelling of the word ‘color’ and ‘gray’. Truly, a debate that will go down in the history books as absolutely fucking stupid.

The other five boys (jeez their friend group was getting large) were behind them watching the fight passively, except for Gilbert. He chose to be draped in Hercules’ lap and whisper things in his ear that would occasionally cause the bigger guy’s breathing to change and hold Gilbert tighter.

“Alright boys, that’s enough,” Angelica said as she strode up to the fighting pair. Then she pointed to Gilbert and Hercules, “you two break it up as well, we have a child on the premises.”

“Hey!” Peggy yelled. Her sister grinned at her and it seemed that Angelica’s commanding presence was enough to bring order to the group. It was something that Peggy had always admired about her oldest sibling, she was able to be the one in the room everyone looked at. Peggy had good comebacks, remarks, and points to make, but she could never get them out as strong or fast as her eldest sister.

Gilbert rose gracefully to greet his guests. He planted a kiss on each of their hands and one on their cheeks. “Bienvenue sisters! You all are as dashing and as late as ever.”

Angelica was about to make another witty retort, but Eliza beat her with a good-natured laugh. “And you are ever the charmer, Mister French fry.” They had themselves a little giggle and everyone looked a bit more relaxed after Eliza spoke.

She always had that about her. It was a common belief that the middle child was always the one that wasn’t thought of, but Eliza was always just _so_ nice and _so_ sweet that she always got a room’s attention after Angelica, even if she didn’t want it.

“Yes, everyone is super charming, let’s move this shit along French fry,” Peggy said impatiently.

Gilbert’s face dropped a margin while everyone else chuckled. It was a slightly harsh statement, but they needed to get this night started. For whatever reason her friends tended to pause for way _too_ long or have way _too_ drawn out conversation and _someone_ had to move everything forward. Besides, Peggy had to say something, less she be forgotten.   

They sat in their customary circle to figure out the night’s activities and they would include a movie, dinner, and the most important part of the night…bitching about school even though the principal would be in the other room. Ha, no, the real highlight of the night was a (now unbanned) game of truth or dare and the smack talk about school would be later in the night.

For the first time in a couple of months the elder Washington’s let them play truth or dare because the last one ended up in a mud wrestling match in the tobacco fields behind the house. Anyone could guess who the two brawlers were and estimate the extensive dry-cleaning bill. Now they had strict rules of:

  1.     No dares that could result in physical damage to oneself or another person.
  2.     No dares can be performed if they are overly sexually explicit in nature.
  3.     No intentionally antagonizing anyone into a physical altercation or an argument.  
  4.     No truth can be asked that can reveal the true romantic feelings between people who are also in the room.
  5.     No mind-altering substances. (This one was a rule for the whole night)



With rules like those the game would be particularly difficult to enjoy, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t get some interesting truths out of it. Especially considering one of her goals of this game was to get John or Alexander to admit their feelings for each other. It would take a little bit of finesse, but she was convinced that it was doable.   

Peggy glanced to her left at her older sisters. There was another reason why she needed to get the two together today, because this was her (and their friend’s) last chance to manipulate them enough to make this happen. Soon Eliza will get tired of waiting and then it would be a competition between her and Angelica, even if the latter was already in a relationship.

Aaron Burr was always the first person to go considering he was the most neutral party. That and his questions and dares were always pretty fuckin’ terrible. “Eliza truth or dare?”

“Dare!” Eliza responded boldly.

“I dare you to eat whip cream out of the can.”

What a Burr like dare, so boring. It was easy enough though, and Peggy was glad that it wasn’t Angelica, or lord forbid Gilbert who got the dare, because then there would be a show that would break rule two. It didn’t mean that her dear sister wasn’t watched by their Caribbean immigrant _very_ intently, which didn’t go unnoticed by most in the circle.

“Looking at your girlfriend very passionately there, Hamilton,” Aaron commented.

Eliza hesitated a bit before she swallowed, and Alexander met her eyes before turning to Aaron with a dazzling smile. “Why Mr. Burr, she’s not a taken lady and on the topic of that where is yours tonight, sir? When I invited you, I said that you should bring her along.” The way he said it made his words sound musical, as if moving to a beat that wasn’t there.

To everyone’s surprise Aaron smiled and went along with Alexander’s word play. “Well you know it’s improper sir, considering she’s dating that British class officer.”

Another surprise of the night. Usually, the guy adamantly denied all wrong doing in concern to his not-so-secret girlfriend. Him and Hammy have been getting rather close lately, and for a brief flash Peggy wondered if there was anything between them to look into. The moment was quickly glossed over as the game began to bounce from person to person.

“Margarita, truth or dare?” Eliza asked. Likely one of the only times she’ll be asked tonight.

“Dare,” Peggy responded. No way in hell she would ever back down from a challenge.

“I dare you to have a nice dance with John,” Eliza said pleasantly.

It was a nice dance. A true Southern gentleman with a distinguished lady like herself, but it had no spark to it, of course. Just two actors trying to frame a pretty scene. It ended quickly, and Peggy looked at John in the eyes, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Typical.

“I dare you to cuddle Alexander every time he gets frustrated, angry, or pouty. For the whole night.”

That made his face turn a delectable (if only) shade of red and Alexander narrowed his eyes at her, “that was a pretty shit dare.”

She chuckled in response, “hey, I’m trying to keep this game from going crazy, I mean how could you get heated if you’re being cuddled? And John I think this counts as frustrated.” She paused and took in the small boy’s expression, “or pouty.”

Her sisters (and Gilbert) made cooing noises, Thomas made a stupid joke, and Hercules gave her a discreet thumbs up as they cuddled.      

The game was actually pretty tame compared to what usually went on, the new rules really spoiled the fun. The truths were pretty boring because of rule three and the dares mostly consisted of trivial nonsense like ‘do ten pushups while someone sits on your back’ or ‘go grab something from the kitchen’ you know, stupid shit.

For her part Peggy mostly watched, it wasn’t often someone would ask her truth or dare. The questions were more likely to go to Alexander, Thomas, Gilbert, and Aaron. Sometimes the group would all gang up on Aaron to see if they could get a funny reaction out of him, but tonight he was rather distracted. Whenever Peggy would look over to him, his eyes were on certain parts of the room that were just out of lamp light reach and the curtains. Weirdo.

Anyway, her and James were at the bottom of the list, as they were always forgotten in the game in favor of the bigger players.

So far James had only gotten picked twice, one from Alexander and the other from Thomas. From Alexander he chose dare, and now he couldn’t eat candy for the rest of the night and Thomas made him reveal the crush he had on a Freshman girl named Dolly. “Alexander, truth or dare?” The quiet boy asked.

“Dare,” Alexander growled. The effect was lessened considering he sat firmly in John’s lap to make the other boy’s job of cuddling him easier because he expressed those three emotions so frequently.

“I dare you to call Washington father or dad or any type of paternal endearment next time you see him.” James took a few heavy gulps from the large water bottle he always carried.

Alexander froze and stared at him while John held him closer. “No,” he said surprisingly quietly. At the same time the room also felt like it dropped a few degrees and from the corner of her eye-

“No one gives a flying fuck Hamilton, rules are rules,” Thomas said.

James drank half of his water bottle, “no it’s fine. You can do that, or you and Thomas can French kiss for three minutes.”

Hot damn the second most interesting thing to happen this game! It got a holler out of everyone in the circle except for John, who clung to Alexander as if he was a drowning man who was holding a floating dying body.

“What the hell Jemmy!” Thomas shouted at his friend. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I’m on _my_ side and you’re both annoying _me_.”

Thomas and Alexander locked eyes and they both shivered, and it probably wasn’t because of the quickly chilling room. “Fine, I’ll do the first one,” Alexander grumbled. This caused John to snuggle into his neck unabashed, most likely because of her dare. He whispered something into his ear that seemed to calm their favorite immigrant (besides Gilbert) down.

“James, truth or dare?” Alexander gritted out.

He thought for a moment and shrugged, “dare. Do your worst.”

“I dare you to not have any dessert tonight or soda.”

The whole room seemed to pause, and James coughed a bit into his arm. “That was your worst?”   

“Truly dastardly,” Peggy commented, but only Eliza smiled at her joke.

And so, the game went on. Every so often something interesting would happen, but not frequently. It was Thomas’ turn when Martha poked her head into the living room, “hey boys and girls, dinner should be here in a few minutes, so get washed up and come into the kitchen.”

There was a chorus of ‘okays’ and some members of the circle started to rise before Thomas spoke up. “Hamilton, truth or dare?”

“I don’t think so,” Hercules cut in, “the game is over.”

“Truth,” Alexander responded.

If Thomas was shocked at Alexander’s response, he didn’t show it. In fact, his mouth spread into a toothy grin. “Why do you have that god-awful jacket full of holes?”

Alexander took a deep breath and looked Thomas straight in the eyes. “My friend died in that coat and it was given to me afterwards.”

Oh shit. Thomas looked shaken as Alexander’s stare bore into him for a couple seconds before walking away with an undisturbed fluent stride. The group looked at each other with slight nervousness at his response. Peggy felt a small pit in her stomach from not only the information, but the way he responded.

He voice was frank and as cold as a cadaver.

The playful atmosphere that had been the only warmth in the air dissipated and was replaced with increasing frigid cold. They’ve _all_ been curious about that piece of clothing before, and they’ve _all_ made comments about it in the past. And now she felt shitty and she was probably going to get sick because the Washington’s need to invest in some new drywall or some freakin’ window sealer to stop that fuckin’ draft.

Not much time to dwell on all that though, delicious food was neigh. Thankfully, the kitchen was warmer than the living room especially with from candles Mrs. Washington lit and the many boxes of pizza that were stacked on the kitchen island. The group settled down and oddly enough, Alexander sat in between Aaron and James at the large kitchen table. John appeared mildly hurt, but made no comment.

“Hungry tonight James?” Alexander asked a few minutes into dinner.

He already had four pizza crusts on his plate and his arm was currently stretched for two more. “I’m quite starving actually.” James had to push up his glasses from leaning over and for the first time all night Peggy saw red in the whites of his eyes.

“Which is odd considering we had something to eat before we left,” Thomas commented. He looked down at his friend with a special kind of fondness that made Peggy wish that she dared him and James to cuddle. That sort of romantic tension gave her life.

There was mild conversation as they ate, but nothing of interest and nothing that she could be included in. They finally finished the meal (in truth it took like, twenty minutes) and everyone started to help clean up to make way for dessert.

“Thank you for the meal, Mr. and Mrs. Washington,” Eliza said politely.

That started a group thank you where Alexander finally completed his dare and said, “thank you father and mother,” at a lower volume than everyone else.

The older couple must have heard his comment because Mrs. Washington’s smile got wider and for the first time in her life Peggy saw Mr. Washington break away from his well-known stoicism. In fact, from the way his eyes were widened and became wet it almost looked as if the man would cry. The expression was gone within a moment, but Mr. Washington’s body language changed to a man who was twenty years younger.

For dessert, Mrs. Washington had made an apple pie, a cheese case, a plate of maple bacon, and she even got out some ice cream for them. Peggy’s had food from some of the finest places in the world—because she was daddy’s little girl—but nothing could ever compare to greasy pizza and Mrs. Washington’s desserts. All was going well with the meal to the point where they were having a civil discussion between which movie they should watch after dinner. Movies like _The Avengers, Beauty and the Beast, A Dog’s Purpose,_ and _Anchorman._

“What do you think frère?” Gilbert asked Alexander.

Alexander didn’t answer though because he was busy staring at James as he took another slice of pie.

“Frère?” Gilbert tried again.

“You know James, I completed my dare, why aren’t you doing the same with mine?” Alexander asked. The draft from the living room swept through the kitchen which must have been the reason why he started fidgeting so much.

For his part, James _did_ look a little guilty as he glanced down at his pie and went to go put it back before Thomas spoke up for him. “He can do whatever he wants. Besides, he needs to eat to keep his strength up.” Then he pushed the pie back in front of his friend.

Alexander grabbed the plate and slid it away from James again. “Have you looked at him? He doesn’t need all that sugar.”

Thomas grabbed the other side of the plate and yanked it. “Have _you_ looked at him? He’s been dropping weight like mad! Why the fuck do you care about his health?”

“Boys,” Mrs. Washington warned. “I think you should calm down.”

“Why don’t you care about his health? Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend? Why haven’t you ever told him to go to the doctor?!” Another yank.

“He just needs to rest and eat. I care more about him than you do!” The paper plate began to tear.

“Boys,” Mr. Washington said in a stern voice this time.

In the middle of the two, James had a on bewildered face as he slowly slid his chair away from them as they tugged the dessert back and forth. That was until Thomas was able to pry the plate away from Alexander. In response Alexander slapped the plate out of Thomas’ hand as if he was an angry cat.

“Hamilton, what the fuck!”

“Can’t give it to him now, dipshit,” Alexander growled.

“Alexander!” Mr. Washington yelled. “What has gotten into you?!” The happiness from before was gone as Mr. Washington rose from his chair to meet Alexander. The older man was large, ridged, and intimidating as if he was an army general and not a disappointed father.

The fidgeting from Alexander continued, but he looked at Mr. Washington in the eyes and stood his ground. “Nothing has gotten into me, sir.”

“There obviously is, son,” Mr. Washington pressed.

The boy gave a stressed laugh, “why do you believe so? This isn’t exactly odd behavior, I hate him!”

Mr. Washington’s face tightened, “apologize.”

“No,” Alexander asserted, his chest was puffed out and eyes full of flames.

“Son-“

“I already said-“

The lights began to flicker, the curtains in the room moved as if blown by wind, and all the candles that were lit disappeared into trails of smoke. Not only that, but the coldness that was kept at bay before, came back with full force to the point where everyone in the room visibly shivered.

“Did someone open a window or something?” Peggy said. Her attempt at a joke ended in silence.

“I’m going to go get my jacket,” Alexander sighed. He appeared to be more anxious or scared than angry. As he trekked upstairs his footsteps were light, but he slammed his door loud enough to be heard.

The lights stopped flickering.

“Well, I’m very sorry James and Thomas,” Mrs. Washington started, “he must be stressed about something.”

“Even so Martha, that is no excuse for him to act this way,” Mr. Washington said, clearly disappointed.

“It’s fine, you two can’t be responsible for his horrendous actions,” Thomas responded. They all took a deep breath and decided that it was time to start their movie.

“You know, fuck you. You’re probably the reason why he’s upset, you just had to ask him about the jacket,” John said to Thomas before the film started.

Thomas snorted, “really? It’s not my fault that he can’t handle his emotions. I’ll never understand why none of you ever ask him about any of these things that seem to go on around him.”

“Because it’s none of our business,” Aaron answered.

“I agree with Burr, even if he is the worst,” Gilbert declared which caused Aaron to frown behind him. “He is permitted to have his own secrets.”

From upstairs she could hear Alexander’s pacing back and forth along with occasional shouts. The words he was saying were muffled, but it sounded like he was yelling _at_ someone. A half an hour into _Anchorman_ , Angelica stood up, “alright guys, I’m going to see what’s up with Alex.”

Eliza sat up on the couch, “are you sure that’s the best idea? He’s been very cranky.”

“I think I should go and talk to him,” John interjected. “He’s my best friend and I know that he’ll talk to me.”

“Just let him sulk in his self-imposed exile or send Burr up there,” Thomas said.

John narrowed his eyes, “what you think I couldn’t do it, you pompous jackass?”

“What I’m saying is that if we send you up there then there is a chance we won’t see both of you until tomorrow, not that I care. Might as well send the guy that he can’t stand but simultaneously has a ridiculous amount of respect for.”

“I’m not leaving this couch,” Aaron interjected.

“Shut it Burr, this isn’t about you!” Both John and Thomas snapped.

Aaron sunk back into the couch and continued to watch the movie. “Alex is my best friend and I wouldn’t make him feel worse or take advantage while his emotions are all over the place. We don’t even like each other like that!”

“Yeah pretty boy? You tell yourself that while you jerk yourself off to the thought of him at night?”

Well, that was her que to leave. Peggy ducked out of the room just as Gilbert and Hercules fought to held back John, and Angelica, James, and Eliza kept Thomas down. They could be fighting well after the movie was over and if there was anything Peggy learned from Alex, it was to jump on an opportunity when you saw one. This way she did something useful for the night and when they look back at it sometime in the future, they’ll remember her.

She had to pass through the kitchen to get to Alexander’s room, so she saw Mr and Mrs. Washington sitting at the now clean table. At some point they relit all the candles and they spoke in a hushed tone over tea. They turned to her, “hello Margarita, is there anything wrong in the other room? We heard-“

“YOU MOTHER FUCK!”

“-hear some shouting,” Mrs. Washington asked.

“Oh, you know, typical stuff. Arguing about something in the movie,” Peggy said. She tried to imitate Angelica’s nonchalance when Daddy caught them doing something sneaky like stealing his wine and chocolates.

“Of course,” the Washington matriarch said as she took a sip of tea, “what are you doing out here?”

“I’m going to see if Alex has calmed down and bring him back so everyone will stop worrying about him,” Peggy answered. Mr. Washington’s hands tightened around his cup and his brow furrowed in a cute old man way. “Unless you would like to talk to him?”

He rose from his chair, “I think that would be for the best.”

Peggy watched the man slowly ascend to the next level and she turned her attention back to his wife. “Sooooo, what were you guys talkin’ about?”

“Just some things concerning Alexander, nothing you need to worry about.”

Well, Peggy Schuyler may not be the smartest, oldest, wittiest, nicest, or any other ‘ests’ one could think of, but she did have basic reasoning skills. Alexander has been acting rather odd since his last placement from mood swings to behavioral ticks and with Mrs. Washington being a nurse one could only assume she thought something is medically wrong with him. “I think it would be a great choice to put him into therapy.”

“Quite an apt guess,” Mrs. Washington commented. “Would you like a cup for yourself?”

“Sure, that sounds delightful.” It was better than going back to the clusterfuck that was in the living room. Unfortunately, as Mr. Washington poured her the tea, the fuck cluster made its way to the kitchen. “Mr. Washington is already talking to him, no need for an intervention.”

“We all decided that it was time for a break and a snack,” Eliza explained.

“Yeah, _we_ decided,” John said under his breath sarcastically.

And then they heard yelling from upstairs. Again, it was muffled, from being so far away, so she couldn’t make out the words that Mr. Washington was speaking. “I guess Washington is finally done with his shit,” Thomas commented.

It didn’t seem to be the case considering that she heard footsteps coming from the stairs…only there were three pairs instead of two. The first person to step through the door was Alexander, the second was a man that was oddly pale who looked awfully familiar, and then Mr. Washington.

The room watched the three move across the room, the tall pole like man had an unusually fluent stride that was somehow out of sync with the noises his footsteps made. He sat at the table across from her and Mr and Mrs Washington while Alexander blew out the candles once more and turned off a few lights.

“Thank you, Alexander,” the man said, the name rolling off his tongue with an oddly musical quality. With the lights dimmed, Pale Guy became more defined and he poured himself two cups of tea.

Alexander nodded and sat beside him.

“Now Mr. Washington, what is it that you would like to speak to me about?” Pale Guy asked. He held his cup with lithe hands. “And I do apologize for not talking to you after Alexander’s last trip down to your office, I thought you were too occupied.”

“Who are you, why are you here, and why are you around Alexander?” Mr. Washington asked almost as if they were statements.

Pale Guy laughed in a deep chested way, “is it so wrong that I would like to spend time with him and teach him things a good caregiver should? But tonight, I am also here for business, as you humans would say.”

“Humans?” Angelica scoffed and moved forward, “pal, you must be really out of it.”

“Calm down,” John said as he pulled her back to be closer to the group. The others stood firmly behind the Washington’s in a true symbol of unity and power against the unknown force.

Still the man smiled and waved, “hello there Johnathan. It’s very nice to see you again.”

“Um, you too, I guess. So, ah, you’ve known Alex for a long time?”

“Indeed, at least six years now.” He turned to Alexander and said something in a language that she (and probably no one else) understood. Alexander rolled his eyes while his cheeks dusted a light pink. “Aaron, it’s nice to see you again as well. Last time I thought you would have screamed.”

Peggy turned her head and saw Aaron’s eyes go wide as he ducked further behind Hercules. The rooms temperature was dropping at a steady rate as the tension and awkwardness in the air became thicker.

“Even if you’ve known Alexander for a long time, your presence in his life is clearly making him uncomfortable. Sir, there may be something medically wrong with you, if you want, I can take you to a place that will help you,” Mrs. Washington said gently. She kept a small smile on her face, even when she was examining the man’s poor physical physic.

Pale Guy’s lips curled downwards, “does this physical form not please you? I could change.”

Alright, so something was really wrong with this guy. “It’s fine sir, I just need you to keep your clothes on and we can go for a drive over to where I work.”

Again, the man turned to Alexander and spoke to him in a different language and it looked like Alexander was explaining something to him by pointing at Angelica, Eliza, and her. Then Alexander took the man’s hand and pointed at his skin. “Ah, I understand, next time I shall-“

“No, you don’t have to,” Alexander assured. His voice was quiet, but steady and then he turned back to the rest of his friends (family), his eyes a sad low burning simmer of what they usually were.

“This is nice,” the man commented as he glanced at his still full cup of tea, “I see why you favor being here. And my apologies, I forgot you prefer that other liquid.” Pale Guy looked down at Alexander’s untouched tea and snapped his fingers. With a blink of her eyes, tan colored liquid in the cup turned to a dark brown and the smell of strong dark roasted coffee filled the room.

“Thank you,” Alexander said as he took a sip.

And suddenly the situation got a whole lot scarier.

“What are you?” Mr. Washington tried again.

“You know who I am.”

“The only time I’ve seen you was when you spoke with Gates before his last debate,” Thomas butted in. From their friend group he, Hercules, Angelica and John were in front of everyone else and from the small cracks between bodies, Peggy could barely make out the faint glow of cell phones.  

“Ah, yes, the man named Gates. Odd label. He liked to yell.”

“Till the very end,” Alexander said quietly.

Mr. Washington stood from his chair. “If you’re not going to tell us anything, leave my house or we’re calling the police.” As if the police could do anything.

“Why? We were having a perfectly civil conversation,” Pale Guy kept is form of relaxation, but there was an edge to his voice.

“Because you’re dangerous and I want you away from my son!” Mr. Washington yelled, finally breaking his stone composure.

The man was up from his chair in a flash, but Peggy didn’t see him stand. “Your son? I’ve been observing humans for a while and from what I’ve seen, the worst ones are those who take him in under the guise of family only treat him as a servant.”

“We do no such thing!” At the comment both Mr and Mrs. Washington both looked aghast as if they were physically struck.

“I perform those tasks by choice,” Alexander interjected.

Pale Guy turned his head impossibly fast to face Alexander, “you do those chores in exchange for food and a roof. It’s the same in every place you go.”

“It’s different. I keep trying to tell you it’s different with these people!” Alexander yelled at the man.

“If you’re going to get angry with me, I’ll leave and speak to you again later,” Pale Guy huffed. He disappeared before their eyes before reappearing behind the group. “Now, for what I came here for. Hello James, it’s time to go.” He held out his hand.

James’ eyes went wide, and backed away from the man, but he kept his approach. Thomas pulled his friend, so he was behind him. “Get away from Jemmy!”

“It’s his time,” Pale Guy stated. He continued to make his way over to James, this time his feet didn’t even move as he slid across the floor.

When he got too close Thomas tried to push Pale Guy away, apparently with all his strength because he went through the man and fell on the floor. As he hit the ground his skin became very pale, he curled into a ball, and shivered. Pale Guy was only a few feet away from James before Alexander popped in front of him.

“No,” Alexander said through heavy breath. “It’s not his time yet. He can still stay.”

“He was supposed to go tonight.”

“But the probabilities have shifted.”

The man became pensive as he analyzed James, “it appears they have. I’ve already spent so much energy being here, I may as well take him anyway.”

“There is a woman about three houses down,” Alexander spoke quickly, “she’s very sick and would be easier to take her than him.”

It took another moment for Pale Guy to answer, “are you sure?”

Alexander looked the man in the eyes, straightened himself, and took one step forward. “My decision is firm, my decision is fair, and my decision is final.”

“How can I deny you then?” Pale Guy said with a deep laugh. He ruffled Alexander’s hair with clear affection, “you’re too silver tongued and clever for your own good.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alexander asked in a smaller voice.

“No, no. Stay here with them, you do need social interaction after all. Shout if you need me, I’m _always_ listening.”

“I know.”

Pale Guy’s smile was full, and he seemed much happy now that Alexander wasn’t angry with him anymore. He turned to Mr. Washington to stare directly in his eyes and without opening his mouth, his voice echoed through the room. “I’ll see you soon.” With a blink he was gone.

The room was silent and full of dread after the man left, and no one knew what to do or say. “So Alex, you’re dead or you just kill people?” Peggy asked with genuine curiosity.

Another beat of silence before- “PEGGY!”

Ah, where would these people be without her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet y’all weren’t expecting the story to come to a head so soon. Hot damn if this wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever written. My apologies for taking a bit and for the truth or dare portion, I generally don’t like those. Only one chapter left filled with answers and a small epilogue!


	11. To be Alive Right Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't usually do these, but
> 
> WARNING: This chapter goes into descriptions of dead bodies and suicide, so if you don't want to read that, skip the parts where Alexander talks about the times he first met with death.  
> Starts with: "My first experience with him directly..."  
> Ends at: "In a way, it was comforting..."

“PEGGY!”

Thank god someone was able to break the silence. Where would they be without her? There was commotion from the eldest Schuyler’s yelling at their youngest sibling. It was a welcome distraction for him at the moment considering what Master had just given away. Alexander glanced down at Jefferson’s shivering frame and took a deep breath.

This was about to get exhausting.

Luckily, with the right words it can be part of damage control, and he had a knack for having the right words. Alexander knelt beside his dear frenemy and placed a light hand on his shoulder to let warmth flow through him. He tried to keep his eyes open to gauge when to stop, but it was too difficult.

Alexander cracked open his eyes to check on Jefferson, usually this was easier with Master telling him when to stop. His color was back, and the shivers had subsided. Jefferson gasped and jolted upright while clasping his chest in his hand while Laf and Hercules helped him find his footing.

“I gave you as much as I could spare.” He took a deep breath to steady his own heart. “You should be fine now.” Alexander rose and walked back over to his spot at the table, using the kitchen counters and chairs to keep his body upright. He poured himself another cup of tea and gestured to the other empty chairs. “I’m sure you all have questions.”

His friends and family took their spots at the table and island. Not surprisingly, no one sat directly next to him. Though, John did sit relatively close (two chairs away) which made Alexander’s mood lighten some. “Well,” Peggy started, “I believe I already asked you one.”

He answered through his swimming head and shaking thoughts. “I’m not dead, I’ve certainly come close, but I’m still here.” For a second, he was lost in his memories, ones that usually only surfaced at night when he futilely tried to sleep. Ones of cannon fire thunder and bullet shell rain along with the worst twisted faces of the people whose homes he tread into. Damn right he was still here, and no one is going to take that away, not even Master, not anymore.

“So, you’ve killed people?” the young Schuyler said with a frown.

Ah, he must have idled for too long, “not yet.” This was obviously the wrong answer because he heard a gasp come from Eliza and half of the table tensed. “I’m just going to start from the beginning and go from there.”

“Oui, I hear the beginning is a good place to start,” Lafayette said with a smile.

“I don’t need your sass French fry,” Alexander teased back with a matching smile to his brother’s. “I didn’t come from a very nice place, so for as long as I can remember he’s always been around. Mostly in the background, but always there just out of eyes gaze.”

Never stand in dark corners, people would say, you don’t know what is lurking there. Before Alexander met Master, he thought they had meant bugs or snakes.

“My first experience with him directly was when my mother died. She was holding me when she passed, and he could have taken me too, but he didn’t.”

Lord, sometimes in his dreams it was like he was there again. His beautiful mother holding him as tight as she could while they were surrounded by scents of sickness and death that clung to everywhere and everything. He was just so nauseous, hungry, and tired. So _fucking_ tired. Back then Master didn’t have a defined physical form, he just looked like a scary black mass that made his mother finally go cold. Even without a defined face, Alexander _felt_ his stare and saw a small mass reach out to him, only to stop at the last second and disappear.

“The second time I saw him was when my cousin committed suicide. He was still twitching on the rope when we found him, and he led me out of the room.”

His cousin was an image that haunts him during his worst breakdowns. When someone killed themselves like that the ending isn’t pretty because they usually die from occlusions of blood vessels instead of snapping of the spinal column as you would in an execution. His face was a sickly blue grey that had blood trails running down from his eyes and cracks on his cheeks as the only contrast in color. His tongue began to protrude from the strangulation and his body was moving as if he was having a seizure. Him and James had walked into the room and while James ran out to hock up sickness, he stood paralyzed. Master still didn’t have his physical form, but he took a more human shape as he touched Alexander on the shoulder and gently pushed him away from the sight.

“There were always sick people on the island who couldn’t hold on, so I saw him often. Sometimes he’d bring me things. Small things to help me out like fruit or trinkets that I could sell.”

There were people on the island that took pity on him, being a poor little bastard orphan. There were others who hated him for being that. More often than not he was starving, and he only lived on the scraps of the few kind families and Father Knox. He would actively avoid finding his reflection in things, so he didn’t have to see his own sunken in face and his body turning into a skeleton with skin.

“He started to actively follow me after the hurricane hit. There were bodies all over the beaches and people trapped beneath debris.”

Alexander remembered the sight all too well. He emerged from his own hiding place dirty and cold, but alive. Always alive. The bloated bodies littering the shore line were different though. Unlike his mother and cousin, only some were a blue or ash color, most were just pale and lifeless resembling beached fish. The ones in houses were the worst because there would often be limbs missing and sections broken or torn off leaving behind a rotten meaty mash of person. There was one woman who was the worst that he remembered. A familiar lady that neither favored nor shunned him, she was pregnant at the time storm to where her stomach visibly showed. Alexander liked to believe that the piece of metal that impaled her killed them both instantly.   

“In a way, it was comforting knowing that he was someone who couldn’t leave. As much as he followed me, I followed him.”

Everyone on the island was put to work cleaning everything to try to bring the place back to a semblance of normal. Father Knox had to leave him alone most days and this was when he would get more visits from Master. He’d bring more gifts and stay for longer periods of time to listen to Alexander’s muses and writings.

“After a while he started to teach me how to perform a few of his tricks. He’s not a bad guy. He’s actually one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“How can you consider something that kills people nice?” Madison asked incredulously.

“Sometimes he kills things,” Alexander answered simply. “When something is alive and it dies, it releases energy and that’s what he takes. Sure, he can help things along if he wants, but he’s mostly just a passive body that’s either collecting free power or helping people let go.”

Madison looked at him seriously, “then why did he want to ‘take’ me?”

“Because you were supposed to die tonight,” Alexander stated.

Both Madison and Jefferson stiffened, and Jefferson was about to open his stupid mouth to argue, but Alexander didn’t want to hear his scathing voice right now.

“Why the fuck do you think I’ve been telling you to go to the doctor for two fucking years now? Maybe someone would have made you take a blood test or recognize your symptoms as diabetes and you would have gotten some insulin and a blood sugar tester.”

“I have diabetes?” Madison blinked. “That’s impossible.”

“You have most of the symptoms except mood swings. Tonight, you were supposed to eat a lot of sugar which would cause diabetic ketoacidosis from a lack of insulin because your body doesn’t produce it. Most likely, you would feel tired and go to sleep and no one would think anything of it until you didn’t wake up in the morning.”

“I don’t believe this,” Jefferson said exasperation.

Alexander huffed and looked at Madison, “If it’s any consolation, your death would have been relatively painless. You don’t really feel your organs shutting down when you’re in a coma.”

With that answer Madison took on an odd expression that suggested that _just_ hit him that he was supposed to die tonight. “So what is he going to do to Mrs. James?” Martha spoke up. She still sipped her tea from earlier and kept a careful eye on him.

“You said she was very fragile, so all it will take is a small push down some stairs or a scare to make her heart rate speed up. If she wasn’t going tonight, then it would have been two weeks from now.”

“And how do you know?” Angelica asked with heat in her voice.

“He can see the various ways people can die. Life is forever changing, and nothing is set in stone, so he sees the current most likely outcome. He’s told me he can physically ‘see’ it in a way, but I don’t. I’m only skilled at feeling the lifespan of people with chronic illnesses and the terminally ill.”

“And you think it was right to let that poor woman go?!”

“Well what the fuck did you want me to do Angelica?!” Alexander spat. He felt shitty for yelling at her like that, but seriously, how could she question his _morality_? “If I didn’t do anything James would be dead! Do you not understand how lucky you people are to be alive right now?! Any of you?!”

He looked around the table with fire in his eyes as his friends and family contemplated their own morality. “Come on man, I doubt any of us would be dead,” Peggy said trying to lighten the mood.

“You were supposed to die last year from that ear infection. The doctor accidentally prescribed the wrong medication and you were going to overdose,” Alexander responded.

He loved Peggy, not romantically of course, but she was the little sister he never had, and he desperately wanted to be the best older brother he could be, partially to be better than his own. Master scolded him when he found out Alexander had switched her medications and ultimately caused her to live. It was worth it though, every time Peggy smiled, and moments he noticed her copy his and others mannerisms to make them her own.

To his relief Peggy didn’t take the information with any dread or even much surprise. “So what does he do with all this energy?”

“How can you not be upset knowing you were supposed to die?” Eliza asked with tears welling in her eyes. Her beautiful voice was soft and far away.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” she countered before swaying her attention back to him, “now answer my question ham sandwich.”

He smiled at her, “he uses that energy to get more energy, so he can move around and do things just like us. Energy flows through an environment and he collects it, so it doesn’t build up. He uses it and recycles it.”

Peggy looked at him with squinted eyes, “so you’re telling me this guy is basically a mushroom?” This assertion got a few snorts and laughs of disbelief that undercut the tension in the room minimally.

It got Alexander to give her a genuine grin. “I don’t know if I would put it like that…”

“He eats dead things and cycles the environment. He’s a big mushroom.”

“Sure,” Alexander laughed, “I’ll tell him later that he’s a big mushroom. I think he’ll find it amusing.”

“So do you know when all of us are going to die?” Peggy asked.

And fuck, just like that the tension returned. “I always ask him when I meet people and realize that they are going to be in my life for a bit. Most of you have a couple years until a highly probable event comes up.”

“What about you?” John asked quietly. “Do you know when you’re going to…?” His friend, his _best_ friend, couldn’t get out the word ‘die’ like if he said it then it may happen. It was a little odd seeing as John was slated to be the next to go in about three years.

“Yeah, it’s not for a while. Our dear Mr. Burr over there shoots me in between the ribs and my lungs fill with blood before I make it to a hospital.” Really, figures after living through a hurricane and surviving pneumonia multiple times that he would still drown in the end.

Might not have been the best thing to say because the whole table turned to Aaron, some with disbelieving faces. Sometimes Alexander forgot how normal people thought that murder was one of the most heinous crimes you could commit. He’s been around it and other atrocities too much to really think that ill of it anymore, especially when it’s about his own.

“Burr, what the fuck!” John shouted. Ah, his lovely John Laurens always coming to his side. Truly the only person in this world he will never be disgusted with.

Aaron was quiet, as usual, his mouth stayed in a neutral flat line and his eyes stayed carefully blank. Guarded. “Is that why you invite me to these things? To try to increase your own lifespan?”

Alexander dropped his shoulders and the grin he had from Peggy. “Actually, every time we meet the probability just stays the same or goes up slightly. Doesn’t matter if the interaction ends with a smile or a frown for either of us.”

“Then why bother being around me?”

“You’re still my friend Aaron, and I like to believe you enjoy doing things with us, even if you don’t show it. Why else would you keep saying yes? And if it were me, I would prefer spending time with people every once and a while instead of being alone.”

Hercules muttered, “Holy shit.”

“This is unbelievable,” Eliza quietly spoke.

“More like fucked up,” Angelica growled.

Aaron was silent.

“Alex, how can you be around the person who’s going to end up killing you?” John asked.

“I’ve known he was going to kill me long before I met him, so the thought has lost its luster. Besides, can’t punish a man who hasn’t done the crime.”

And really it was so much more than that. When he first met Aaron, Alexander had made it his mission to find out everything about him because seriously, how could _he_ of all people end up killing him? Alexander found out they were very similar right down to being orphans, the main difference being the person who took Aaron in was a relative who had a couple of dollars. And who was also not a great guy. It didn’t take much brain power to realize how much their stories paralleled and how easily Aaron could have been in his position.

He tried a couple times to get Aaron to open up to him, but they never really worked. Alexander understood, of course, if he didn’t have a powerful omnipresent friend, he probably wouldn’t feel safe to trust anyone either. For all he knew, Aaron could share a lot of his thoughts and opinions, but he chose to keep it quite or tone them down to seem more likable, which is a shame. Life would have so much more to offer him if he didn’t always sit back and wait for his turn to speak.

“Any more questions about me or Master?” He didn’t mean for the title to slip out given how new all this information was, but he would accidentally use it eventually. Not the best time though, damn him and his big mouth.

“Master? Angelica is right this is some fucked up shit!” Jefferson jeered. “If he’s just like us, I can only imagine why he makes you call him that.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, “I meant master in a work-related way. I know it’s an old-world term, but in a way, I am his apprentice. Do all my relationships need to be sexualized with you? Fuckin’ prick.” Though, if Alexander were hard pressed, he would have to admit that his relationship with the man had blurred to be like the one he had with George.

“Does he make you call him that?” George asked, his first time speaking up during the conversation. His voice was as rigid as his posture.

If there was something Mr. George Washington was good at it was making Alexander feel small and helpless. As if he was a child that was in trouble and had to explain his wrong doings and wait for a bea-punishment. “No, I just call him that because that’s what he his. He doesn’t exactly have a name.”

“Nah man, his name is Mushroom now,” Peggy reminded him.

“Does he make you go with him when he works?” George asked.

“He doesn’t force me, but I’m learning how to do the things he does, so I know its good for me to watch so I can do it on my own one day. I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of responsibility yet. He does give me some of the energy afterwards and sometimes gifts.”

Before Master had really started teaching him, sometimes Alexander would just go for fun. It would be better than rotting in whatever deteriorating hole he would find himself in that night like a new foster home.  

“Gifts?” Martha asked.

“Frequently, he’ll swipe something from people’s dwellings that he thinks I need or that I would like. It’s a nice gesture even if I can’t use most of it and it feels wrong to throw it away.”

“Like a new suit,” Hercules deadpanned.

“Hey, I actually asked for that and Franklin gave it to me happily. It’s a shame, he was a cool guy, I wish I could have talked to him while he was still alive.”

“You didn’t?”

Alexander shrugged, “some people like to linger.”

With that final statement everyone at the table was blessedly quiet, even if Alexander could still feel the buzz of curious energy. In time they would all no doubt come up with more or let go of their reservations and ask the ones they still had. Well, that is if they had anymore time together. Alexander had one question for the man and lady of the house which he didn’t want to ask, lord he really didn’t want to ask, but it would be easier for them.

“I understand if you don’t want me to be here anymore.” The others can be avoided if need be, but he still needed a place to live. Alexander’s throat began to close to the point where he had to use one of Master’s voice tricks to make it sound normal. “If you want, I can be gone within the hour. It wouldn’t be any trouble at all, Master will just take me somewhere else and you won’t hear from me again.”

Martha gave George a sharp nod when they locked eyes, which seemed to be the only communication that the couple needed. “Son, you only have to leave if you want to. We won’t force you.”

“As unusual as all this is, I’m happy we didn’t find out you were on drugs or something,” Martha said with relief.

“I must say, I also agree with our dear parents. I want you to stay,” Lafayette butted in.

Relief flooded through his own body. Now that all this shit was public knowledge between friends (and it was information no one else would believe so he was safe with frenemies) perhaps life could get better. Just knowing that he won’t be forced to leave, and hopefully, let him push back their death dates.

“I’m sorry, this is just so hard to be okay with all of this,” Eliza said softly.

“Really Eliza? You’re the one to have a problem with this? Alex works with Death himself, that is so cool!” Peggy exclaimed.

“It is a lot to take in,” Angelica pointed out. “And how can we know if he’s telling us the truth, or the whole truth on everything?”

To be fair, it’s a good point and observation, one that hurt like hell, but one to be expected.

“How do we know that Hamilton isn’t just lulling us into a false sense of security?” Jefferson asked.

“Or saving us for later?” Madison added.

“Or he won’t just get rid of people he doesn’t like? Look at his last four foster parents.”

More fair observations, even if they were coming from a jackass and his lackey. “I guess you can’t know for sure. We can get energy from heat and solar too it’s just not as strong, so you guys shouldn’t worry about us eating you or something.”

Alexander finally took the tea cup out of his iron grip and turned it upside down. The frozen block clattered on the tea saucer, bits of it broke off and began to melt on the table. It recharged him minimally after the stunt he had to pull with Jefferson. He’d have to wait until Master came back to get a full charge, but he’ll be alright just a bit tired. He _could_ draw from the lights or more tea, but it wouldn’t satisfy him, and he may blow out the bulbs. Even Master didn’t quite know why, but the energy that came from life was so much _better_ than the other sources.

Alas, starvation and exhaustion are old foes that never truly go away and can only be pushed back so much.

“I know all this information about death is scary and it’s a lot. I went through the same thing years ago,” Alexander explained. “If I wanted to, I could make people I don’t like go away. I don’t because that isn’t fair. I try not to discriminate.”

“You were able to for that old woman,” Angelica pointed out.

“She had no partner, kids, or pets. The only thing she had going for her was that she had two weeks left on her life. And yes, two weeks is a long time, but her probability was at a hundred percent and James’ wasn’t. She was going to die and that gave an opportunity for James to live. That’s the long and short of it.”

A good few of the people at the table still didn’t appear convinced from his words, which is understandable, but frustrating. Usually he never has this much trouble getting his point across. So, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath to steady himself, “for how much I hate Lee, he was correct in a lot of things he said on the day John punched him.”

John perked up at the mention of his name and tilted his head cutely. “You mean with your family?”

He nodded, “as you can imagine, Master-“

“Mushroom,” Peggy interjected.

“Mushroom,” Alexander amended for her, “has the ability to be anywhere at any time. In fact, he’s always around, but his physical form is just the place where he _mostly_ is. Anyway, he’s taken me to places where some of my biological family reside.”

First it had been his brother, James (lord, he knows too many James’). He still stayed on the island and he was an apprentice of carpentry under a family that happily took him in. It had only been a year or so after Alexander had left for America and it was an all-around nice family reunion. Master had posed as his benefactor for the first time and charmed everyone. Him and James wrote to one another sometimes, but there wasn’t much of a bond.

“I went back to the island where I came from, up to New York to visit my mother’s cousin-“

The second trip to his mother’s cousin really wasn’t a visit like it was with James. Father Knox had called her and tried to get her and her husband to take him in, but they refused. Out of anger, Alexander convinced Master to take him to them to see why. What he found was a young couple who were barely making it in their small pest infested apartment with a baby of their own on the way. When they returned to Alexander’s current foster home, Master gave him a pat on the back and a New York snow globe that had the Statue of Liberty inside.

“-and my father in Scotland. If I won’t mess with the life of a man who left my family in debt and starving, which led to my mother’s death, I think everyone here and beyond is safe from personal wrath.”  

“Why?” Aaron asked. “Why choose to spare the sinners if you have the power to get rid of them and instead take the saints?” His whole posture screamed depressed and as he spoke, Aaron’s eyes were only halfway grounded, like he was picturing something else.

Alexander stared at his distorted reflection in the frozen tea as he answered. “I’ve thought about that question for a long time, especially pertaining to him. Whether I should get him now, and not so long ago, I almost did. But when I went to Scotland to visit him, I saw him with his new family.” He had to take a breath and use the voice trick once more. “He’s remarried and has three young children.”

Like with his mother’s cousin, when Master took him for the visit, Alexander didn’t approach and stayed only in the shadows. Apparently, his father was a lord’s son and he took to living at the family estate with his new bride and brood. Thankfully, the only similarity between the new wife and his mother were that they were beautiful. She looked to be of Eastern descent with tan skin and a noticeably thick accent as she spoke.

On the day he was there, they were playing in the family gardens and they were all dressed finely. Laughing and eating without a care. Who Alexander assumed were his grandparents were also nearby watching the family with smiles of joy and adoration. His grandmother had little treats for the active and almost plump children.

A happy family that he had no part of.

It hurt in his chest more than he would like to admit, and even days after the images haunted him more than any death he’d seen.

“James Hamilton lived, and he got the opportunity to improved himself,” he started simply, “sinners can become saints given enough time and personal will to be better. I said before I’m not good at probabilities yet, but I would have to guess he goes out by alcohol poisoning in about thirty years or so.”

“And you’ll let him be taken?”

He smiled, slow and tired, “when the time comes, I’ll take him, and I’m going to make sure he knows that I’m the one taking him. I’ll let him live his life, but I refuse to stay forgotten.”

Alexander refused to let his mother be forgotten.

The melting ice tea started to make a puddle so now the image that looked back at Alexander was physically less distorted. He imagined that the feeling lightness he had was one that people had after therapy. Arms wrapped around his shoulders as a larger body invaded his personal space and the head of the person snuggled into his hair. “You looked a little sad and I guess that’s close enough to pouty,” John whispered.  

John cuddled him, and Alexander let himself be happy in the warmth.

“So,” Hercules said clearing his throat, “what do we do now?”

“Did anyone listen to what Adams was spewing yesterday?! Absolutely horrid!” Lafayette yelled and fake fainted onto Hercules’ chest.  

“It wasn’t the usual stuff about hating his job and everyone he ever meets baring his wife?” said Angelica with an eye roll.

“Non! He spoke of being Gates’ official replacement for the debate team!”

“WHAT!” Alexander yelled.

“EXCUSE ME?!” Jefferson yelled at the same time.

“I know! How could you allow this Père?!” Lafayette accused George.

And so, the tradition of shit talking things that happen at school continued and this time George was in the center of it. At least for a little bit, until the sisters and Lafayette moved to the topic to hottest male faculty members. As the conversation progressed, Alexander became less active and content himself to returning John’s cuddles. After all, sometimes it was better to just watch in the shadows.

 

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” John asked as he slid next to Alexander. With spring finally making itself known it was easier to spend time outside in the (admittedly still) brisk Virginia air. Martha had a beautiful grove behind the house with a brick path, stone benches, hedges, and a vegetable garden.  

Alexander leaned into John’s chest and felt him stiffen then quickly relaxed. “Oh, you know, national debt, Jefferson being an asshole, a new essay I’m thinking about writing.” After the initial confrontation things settled down. Master (or Mushroom at Peggy’s insistence) started to spend more time out of the curtains and the corner of the living room and with the rest of Alexander’s newest family. It was awkward at first, of course it would be, but the more he was there the more he became accepted.

“Of course you are,” John laughed sweetly and placed a hand on his lower hip to pull Alexander closer. Whenever John and Master had interactions to any other party it looked like an alien trying to act as human as possible. An interesting new trait that emerged considering beforehand Master did as he pleased and didn’t care if he offended anyone or seemed human.

He was particularly careful with John, always trying to keep conversations short and light hearted. If Alexander had a guess, he would say it’s because Master knew of his personal…preferences for the curly haired boy.   

“Aidez-moi! We have all the food for the picnic and it is heavy!” Lafayette yelled from inside their home.

“What? Herc isn’t enough for you?

“Oui, he _certainly_ is,” Lafayette giggled.

Both he and John groaned at the joke. The two weren’t official in that they haven’t told anyone they were together, but when Alexander says up late writing on his laptop, he sometimes heard questionable noises from his brother’s room.

Master gets along with both of them well, only he spends more time with Hercules since the large guy found out that Master can change his clothes instantly as a shift to his physical form. Not only that, but since he’s been around for so long Master can also show Herc fashion trends from years past. Now whenever Herc can get him to spare a moment he uses Master as a model for old designs and new.

“You two should help Gilbert and Hercules with that,” George said from behind the hedges. Even though they owned a large farm on the property that was taken care of by others, he and Martha liked to keep their personal grove themselves. Unfortunately, Martha had to skip this family moment because she was called back to work. Currently George was clipping the bushes where wearing khaki shorts, a white tank top, and a straw hat Laf got him as a joke.

Him and Master were at an understanding where they stay at opposite ends of rooms or tables. They don’t generally speak to each other, but the bits that Alexander has heard were often about war.

When they started to set up the picnic Alexander made sure to have one end of the blanket in the shade, so Master may join if he so pleased. Madison and Jefferson (thankfully) weren’t invited to this outing and Aaron turned down his invitation.

Sometimes Alexander caught Aaron staring at him with a thousand-yard stare and a frown at school. He’d told Aaron multiple times that Master was a good guy and that it was okay if he one day still decided to kill him. They were all going to die one day, some soner than others, and if Aaron didn’t do it then heart failure due to childhood malnutrition would. The only time Master went to assure him the same, the poor guy almost fainted. So, Aaron was more or less avoiding him and his friend group until further notice, but Alexander was hopeful the other boy will come around.

The first couple times Jefferson and Madison decided to hang out with the group again, Jefferson was particularly protective of his friend. Though, after a few of interactions with Master, Jefferson learned that he had a lot of information on how to take care of Madison, who finally went to the doctor. They got tips, tricks, and little hints that would help Madison stick around for as long as possible.

“Anyone know when the sisters are going to show up? They’re already ten minutes late.” Hercules asked as they set out the plates and glasses on the checkered blanket.

“Hey sluts, we got the stuff!” Peggy yelled appearing behind them. “Oh, hello Mr. Washington.”

“Hello Margarita. Please don’t use such powerful language while I’m around, if you could,” George responded with a smile.

She gave him a wink and a thumbs up. “Absolutely, my dear sir. Won’t do it again!”

“You could have helped us with your magic powers Peggy!” Angelica yelled from the driveway. Her and Eliza struggled to carry three large bottles of soda and a carrier of home baked goods. Peggy popped back over to them and took one of the sodas, so she could bring it back to the blanket. She had to sit down afterwards to recover, but she smiled, clearly proud of herself.

Master had taken a quite a liking to each of the sisters for different reasons. Angelica had the balls to yell and argue with him and constantly tried to pick his brain more than Alexander ever did. With Eliza, Master was impressed by her kindness and often compared her to life energy itself. And then there was Peggy.

She was probably the person who was the most accepting of all this shit and it showed. Whenever Master was around, she would ask him questions about taking energy, how to do some of his tricks, and was all around curious. Much like how Alexander was when he finally got the nerve to ask. It wasn’t much of a surprise (to him) when Master started to teach her too and that in the beginning when Angelica told her to stay away from Master, Peggy ignored her. It was nice to have another person to practice with and confide in about some of the things they’ve seen. It brought them closer and it made them both feel a bit less lonely and left out.

Alexander could have never predicted that anyone, let alone a group of people would accept him with his past and his longest caretaker.

Just as they sat down Master appeared at the dark end of the checkered cloth. “Mushroom!” Peggy yelled and popped next to him to give him a hug. He returned it with a smile, ever since Peggy had told him of his new label, he was quite taken with it. He told Alexander that it was quaint that she had given him a name.

His friends and family lounged in the sunshine and laughed through the clear air as Lafayette launched into a dramatic tale of his trip to a fake French café. Alexander snuggled into John’s side as he listened to his friend and noted everyone else’s immersion as well, even with Master sitting so close.

In a way, they were both exactly where they were supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, writing stuff with multiple people interacting at a time is hard and really makes the space feel empty. I really enjoyed writing this and seeing it grow from the first chapter and barley strung together ideas. 
> 
> Originally, I had two stories about death and I chose to write this one because it was shorter (and I need to get to my next Steven Universe novel. Haha). The other was about Alexander becoming death via Tim Allen’s The Santa Claus style by stealing his scythe and as a result he must watch each of his friends die while slowly dying himself while going insane. Perhaps another time, but if I ever write another story for this fandom, I’d want it to be a Jamilton fic. 
> 
> Anyway, I’m sure some have noticed that this isn’t marked as 11/11 which is because I have a bonus chapter planned. It’s a Father’s Day special, and I suggest y’all stick around.


	12. The First Father's Day pt:1

**June 1st**

Internally, he was panicking. June fourteenth was approaching much faster than he would have liked, and he was running out of time. And isn’t that the story of his life? Always running out of time.

This decision was so much easier when it came to Martha’s gift for her respective day. Alexander got her a white and purple sun hat that had a huge flower on it and a pair of matching gardening gloves. It was even easier to give them to her because he could pass them off as a ‘it’s finally fucking spring’ gift so she could have an easier time gardening.

How was he supposed to do something like that with George?

He really dug himself into a hole with this. He couldn’t just not give him something for Father’s Day since he got Martha something for Mother’s Day (sort of). It’d be rude, and it may make George think that Alexander doesn’t see him as a parental figure. If the name of the day was parent’s day then it would be better, but it had to be ‘father’s’.

It was moments like these that he had to calmly reassure his subconscious that there is a difference between a father and a dad. And how his own biological father isn’t in the picture anymore, so the distinction of familiar care and affection would currently fall onto George and (to an extent) Master. And that even if his biological father came back it didn’t matter because it would just a be a countdown until he died. His liver was going to fail soon. Too much alcohol. He left, he has a new family, he-

Alexander sighed and rubbed his eyes. A glance at the right corner of his laptop indicated that it was three in the morning. He’d been searching through multiple websites for four hours now trying to find a gift that was both subtle and telling. Sometimes when he got too frustrated, he’d flip to a new piece of writing he was working on, but time was running out. Instead of being productive, he bounced out of bed and began to pace in front of his computer’s glow.

When the temperature dropped, he didn’t even look up from his angry musings. “Martha set a curfew for our activities, so you could rest more, yet you choose not to. May I inquire why?” The voice floated into his head with an almost musical quality to it. It was calming, quiet, and most certainly not spoken aloud.

“I need to get George a gift for Father’s Day, but I can’t,” Alexander responded with strained patience. It was hard to keep his voice down and he couldn’t pull the same trick Master did considering the other didn’t have a physical head to put a voice into.

“Is that all? Give him something from your suitcase. They’re wonderful gifts.” As the voice drifted from his head, a zipper sounded, and a few odds and ends hovered in front of him.

He waved his arm through the air to send the gold timepieces, necklaces, and cufflinks away. “I know everything here is great, but I can’t give him that stuff.”

A low hum bounced off the room’s walls as the being became less solid and took on a smoky form to waft like a smoke over to Alexander. Other than his human body, this was Alexander’s favorite because of the non threatening way he was being surrounded. It especially felt good when he received energy from Master like this. It was almost like being covered in an old comforting blanket.

This time it was only for the comfort as Alexander never received the telltale buzz of reintroduced life energy flowing into his body. “Will you be getting me anything for this holiday?” The words twirled through the air this time and caused an echo from being bounced off his wispy form.

“You get the same thing you get every gift exchange holiday. You have no need for physical possessions,” Alexander said leaning into him. It had started when Master had taught him how to suck energy out of life and light, and as a gift Alexander would spend a few days collecting it to give to Master. Often, the energy would just come back to him after he overworked himself, but Master appreciated the thought.

“It would be a nice change of pace to receive an object.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

The response was given to him in the form of a small object falling into his lap. Alexander raised a brow and picked it up to examine it. It was a clay trinket in the shape of a brown mushroom and on the bottom of its stipe was engraved ‘P’. “Were you carrying this all day? That must have been very tiring.”

“It was; however, she was very proud when she bequeathed me with it.”

Finally, Alexander rose and placed the mushroom on his dresser that had a few other items. It almost looked out of place in the couple of things that Alexander owned himself. “Maybe that can help you understand why this gift needs to be perfect.”

When he turned to face Master, he saw that the black mist had reformed into a semi-solid shape that was scrolling through his laptop. “I have shifted perspective and have found an adequate endowment.”

“That quickly?” Alexander said doubtful. He leaned over to see ‘best gifts for a father’ typed into the google search bar and the cursor hovered over a beef jerky flower arrangement. “I appreciate the help, but I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”

“He prefers meat, and this is very decorative, like the garden. It is also consumable, so it won’t take up space, and if need be, it can be repeated. Ideal.”

“I want it to be a gift that will show him how much I appreciate him, but not touchy feely enough where we’re going to have a sit-down heart to heart. Do you understand?” As Alexander asked the cursor kept moving through different dad day gifts.

“Marginally.”

Alexander let him scroll through the computer for a while and instead wrote on his phone. Master didn’t often partake in the wonders of the modern world, but he figured it was best to let him get sucked into it and try to help him. Besides, it was fun to go through the search history afterwards. Things like ‘how to raise a child’, ‘malnutrition in children’, ‘human need for interaction’, ‘explaining emotions’, ‘funny cat videos’, and other such gems.

Some other things may really get him in trouble one day like Master looking up statistics of deaths in various countries just to compare them to what he knew to be true.

“I have procured it.”

Shit. He could have bought anything online. Alexander didn’t need to be on some sort of watch list. “What exactly did you buy and how much was it?” Alexander asked looking up from his phone.

“Low cost. And don’t fret, it is the optimal present.”

“Okay, can’t wait for it to arrive.”

He finally condensed further to his lanky pale human shape to project a smile and ruffled Alexander’s hair. He swatted away the other’s hands with a hiss which only caused the now transformed man to let out a deep laugh. Master closed the laptop and placed it on the nightstand beside the table. “Now that’s settled, you should sleep.”

“Sure.” He did have school in a few hours, and it was mildly comforting that he at least had something, even if whatever was picked out for him was atrocious it could be played off as a joke. He still had two weeks to come up with something, so he should be fine.

“Good morning Alexander, rest well.” And then with a blink, he was gone.

It took another hour to fall asleep after dicking around on his phone, but he was eventually able to drift off. Mostly to the thoughts of fathers and mushrooms.

 

A couple days later he was still stuck in a rut in what to get. It was an impossible decision that he couldn’t get anymore help on. If he asked his friends, they may poke fun at him and (unintendedly) cause some old wounds to open further, and he can’t ask Martha because then she’d tell George.

“Are you okay frère?” Lafayette asked as they sat on the couch. It was a rare in between period where there were no friends or enemies over the house. It was nice to be surrounded by friends, but it was also nice to be in the house with just his small comfortable family. “You’ve been rather out in space as of late.”

“You know, finals are coming up,” Alexander half lied. Finals were an unhappy three last days of school for everyone from students to secretaries, and he _had_ already begun to study. The exams were a good excuse to not think about his current dilemma. It’s a shame that one couldn’t just study their problems away.

The answer seemed to be accepted, for now, as Lafayette turned back to the random Lifetime movie they flipped to. One could get a lot of amusement out of poking fun at their shitty acting, low production quality, terrible plot points (the writing in general), and the obvious skew to the female audience.

There was another thing about these movies that kept Alexander hooked and it was the fact that he actively rewrote them in his mind so that they were better. Most of them had a good story, leaning on great sometimes, they just needed to get to it. Kind of like chiseling a sculpture out of a block of stone.

This one was about a woman trying to put herself back together after her husband left her with their children. He imagined that instead of not working and only using her dwindling savings, the woman was able to get a steady job, perhaps at a bar.

She was beautiful and was easily able to coerce tips from flirty male patrons but never accepted a date or gifts from any of them. It was because she was strong as stone and she didn’t need her heart broken again. Besides that, she had two sons that filled her time and heart enough to where she didn’t need anything romantic from anyone. All those men only saw her beauty and not the hard working, tired woman she was when she went home. The stakes were too high for her and her boys for her to be hurt again.

Because isn’t that what grown men always do? Break you and your heart and then leave.

But no, in the movie he came back in the end to happy crying children and an ecstatic wife who was joyous because the love of her life decided to return to her. Which is bullshit. All of it was bullshit. That she was so happy and had no hint of anger. That the boys didn’t feel abandoned. That he fucking _came back_.

She should have moved on, maybe finding love later in life when her looks began to fade. Should have kicked that fucking guy in the balls when he came back with flowers and chocolates begging for forgiveness. And then she should have supported her boys through their education and watch them grow up into better men than their father.  

“You seem very displeased on the end of the story,” Lafayette said with a hint of a laugh.    

“The ending is bullshit!”

This time his brother laughed aloud, “you take these things too seriously.”

The comment, while playful, stung. If it wasn’t a lifetime movie would it deserve to be taken more seriously? Alexander was about to open his mouth to retort when a loud knock from the front door sounded through the house. They both looked pulled out their phones to check if they were expecting anyone. Laf shook his head no, and Alexander mirrored him.

The knock came again, and this time Lafayette got up to greet whomever it may be while Alexander trailed behind him so he could peek out from the front curtains. Both George and Martha were out so it wasn’t someone looking for them, and due to where they lived no poor Jehovah’s witnesses wanted to make the long trek up the driveway.  

One glimpse out the window let Alexander see a man he’s only observed at a distance and never in America. One of familiar curly red hair, light milk colored freckled skin, and a short (but not as short as him) stature. He saw from his vantage point, Lafayette open the door with a surprised expression on his face as the man introduced himself. “Alexandre!” he called, “it is for you!”

And it certainly was. Briefly, Alexander thought of calling Master to his side, but instead he steadied himself to greet his father at the door. It was like looking at a distorted carnival mirror in the dark because they appeared so similar. Their color pallet was different in that Alexander’s own curled hair was dark along with his skin, both beloved gifts from his mother, and his father had some age on him not due to stress.

“Welcome,” Alexander said politely and with a straight face and hands clasped behind his back. “Would you like to come in?” George and Martha would be so proud.

James Hamilton gave him a large smile that showed his slightly yellowed teeth and stepped through the threshold. He put his jacket on the hook and turned back to Alexander, as Lafayette closed the door behind him.

“I would like to say hello to ya, I’m-“

“I know who you are,” Alexander cut off. James blinked and frowned at the bluntness, and with the combination of the hurt expression and Lafayette’s concerned face, Alexander softened his posture. “It’s been a long day, forgive me for my rudeness. Please, come into the kitchen. We’ll be able to sit and talk.”

His father laughed deeply, and it almost sounded sincere. “Lead the way, me boy.”

It took everything that Alexander had to not stiffen at the word choice. Ugh, he’d probably snap at George later for saying something similar. They sat across from each other and his mind tingled from the memory of his friends and families surrounding him with Master. James snatched an apple from the bowl on the table and took and enthusiastic chop out of it.

“You gotcha self set up with a nice place, kid,” James said still eating his apple and examining the space. “’As a real old whorld charm to it.”

“It does,” Alexander said and then let the conversation pause. Lafayette lingered in the background, but while his father was distracted Alexander flashed him a thumbs up. His brother nodded and disappeared to another room. “What brings you here?”

Blue almost violet eyes that were too similar to his own snapped to his attention. “I was in da area wif my wife and ah…I wanted ta see ya,” he said almost sheepishly.

Now, Alexander had dealt with too much bullshit in his life to take that at face value, not matter how much the little kid in his heart wanted him to. “You just happened to be in Virginia? This is one of the most boring places in the country and you chose to be here? Why else?”

“My wife found out I had a child ‘ere and she encouraged me to meet up with ya. I’ve wanted to get in contact with ya for awhile, but I’ve never found the rhight time.”

Another thing that he would love to believe if not for the obvious fact that this was the man who abandoned him and his mother. “You didn’t want to see me after mom and Peter died,” he stated bluntly. Father Knox told Alexander that they had found his father and the rest of his biological family, but they chose not to take him. They didn’t even want to speak to him to tell him _why_ god dammit.

“And it will forever be my greatest regret.” His eyes were wet, and his voice cracked near the middle of the sentence.

Alexander sat and examined the man. It didn’t look like he was acting, and his body language matched his voice and words perfectly. He did see the man living happily with his family not too long ago, so maybe he had moved on. Changed. Alexander’s new family gave him a chance after something unimaginable, and really if no one gave him a chance, he wouldn’t be here right now. “What have you been up to?”

James gave him a fond half smile. “Well me boy, I’ve been in Scotland trying to put my life back together…”

And so, the game of catch up began first with James and then with Alexander himself. He obviously had to leave out the portions with Master and glossed over some of his more undesirable experiences with other foster homes. It was almost nice in that it was a conversation between two people who haven’t been in each other’s lives for a while.

Relaxed was a good word to describe it. They even laughed a bit during a funny story of how James had courted his new wife and fell as he tried to give her flowers. He spoke fondly of his love for his now wife, and Alexander tried his hardest not to be angry of the woman who he’d only _seen_ once. Oddly enough, James never brought up his new children, most likely to keep Alexander calm, so he didn’t mention it either.

Lafayette stealthily stayed in the background and checked in on him from time to time while clutching his phone. An ever-attentive brother. The most surprising part of the conversation was when it turned to politics and Alexander found out they had much of the same beliefs.

It was serial, in a way, that he was talking to the man who he had watched from a distance, one that he considered dead. With the close proximity Alexander could see the slight shaking of his hands and his eye whites having yellowed a shade. In his mind, Alexander lowered the man’s life expectancy to fifteen to twenty years.

Before he knew it the sun that was streaming through the window had set and they had been talking for hours. Impressive because usually Alexander tired his opponents out in the game of words.

The game finally stopped when George and Martha arrived home. They walked into the kitchen, George stood tall and intimidating, while Martha was slightly behind him to survey the situation with caution.

James sprang from his chair and walked straight up to the pair. “”Ello there, you must be Mr and Mrs. Washington, Alexander has told me how kind you are! I am James Hamilton, it’s very nice ta meet you.” He shook George’s hand with vigor then moved to Martha and kissed her hand gently, “M’lady.”

“Charmed,” Martha snorted.

“Mr. Hamilton,” George said, his voice deep and unimpressed. “Would you like to sit down and have a chat? We can have tea.”

“I would love to but must get going. Wife is expecting me, I’m sure ya understand.”

“Of course,” George responded.

His father turned back around to face him and gave an apologetic look. “I really must go me boy,” he said with a frown. He shoved a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded creased piece of paper and held it out to Alexander. “I would like to speak to yee more, if you’d like.”

Slowly, Alexander took the piece of paper. It was warm and felt like something you shouldn’t touch, like a cursed treasure. “I’ll walk you to the door.” It felt like walking through a lucid dream as he opened the door and politely said a farewell to his father. James walked to an expensive sleek black car and drove away.

He softly closed the door and turned to his family. “What a day,” he sighed.

Lafayette ran to him and picked him up in a crushing hug. “Are you okay?!” he asked quickly. “If you’re not I’ve been in contact with everyone for the past three hours. They’re all together and can be here in fifteen minutes!”

As Lafayette was speaking his arms only tightened and caused Alexander squeak and his back cracked. “I’m good,” he said as he was strangled. “Laf please let me down.”

His brother complied, thankfully. “Are you sure, son?” George asked taking a slight step forward.

“We’re here to listen if you want to talk,” Martha said.

“I just want to think for now, thanks though. I appreciate it,” Alexander said to everyone in the room. He really was, its just that the paper his father gave him burned his hand and he just needed to be alone for a while.

“We understand,” Martha said softy.

“Thanks guys.” And with a blink he was in his room and staring at the phone number contained in the paper. After all, life wasn’t a Lifetime movie and he owed it to himself to think out the plot.

 

It took major deliberation with himself, Master, and his current set of parents to decide that yes, he should call the number. It took another couple days to set up another date to meet, this time at a nearby small café and with his current wife. Alexander assured his family and friends that he’d be fine going by himself and that they don’t need to be spy on them.

They had all told him to be careful during their meeting. Even Jefferson had heard (of fucking course he did) and gave him some reassurance. “I know we aren’t the closest of friends,” he started, “but if you need help, James and I will be in the downtown area that day.” It only took a near death experience to bring out a good side in the fucker.

He even convinced Master to wait until the night to speak with him on the matter. While Master didn’t technically have emotions, made of energy and all that, he understood that Alexander was angry with his father. And well, it wouldn’t make for light conversation with the knowledge that if his father made one wrong move, he’d choke or have an unfortunate mishap. Instead, he asked Master to help him go over his Filipino to impress his father’s wife.

Ultimately, it was decided that John would be the one to walk him to the doors of the café. On their way there they went through small talk and John held his hand the whole time. The pair could have been mistaken as a couple going out for a date considering the underlying romantic tension from both.

When they finally arrived. John brought him close in a gentle embrace that Alexander immediately reciprocated. “I’m going to be fine,” Alexander murmured into his chest. His sweatshirt felt soft against his face and he could hear the strong almost frantic heartbeat through it.

John pulled back slightly so he could whisper in Alexander’s ear, “I know. I just…I’m always worried about you.”

Alexander shivered and let himself be held for a few minutes longer. He moved back so John’s hands fell to his hips and moved his up, so they looped around his partner’s neck. John’s face was open and honest to the point where they probably looked like they were from a scene in one of those lifetime movies. It would be so easy just to lean into a kiss because for once they were alone and the thought of John’s impending death wasn’t circling his head.

Alas, right now would be a shitty time to do something like that. Maybe when the stuff with his biological father blew over and Father’s Day in general. Which, fuck, he still hasn’t figured out. “You going to pick me up when I’m done?” Alexander asked quickly.

“Of course,” John said with a breath and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Text me when you’re done.”

“Yep. Sure. Uh, thanks.” He walked into the shop a little dazed from his unexpected moment of intimacy. When he finally came to his senses, he spotted his father and a lady sitting at one of the window seats watching him with grins. Her smile reached her eyes while his father’s held something akin to disappointment.

The woman rose and met him as he approached the table and held out her hand to shake. “Oh honey, you could have brought your boyfriend in here with you! I would have loved to meet you both! My name is Sheryll Hamilton, though I’m sure you knew the last part,” she laughed. “It’s very nice to meet you.” As she finished, she brought Alexander over to where him and his father were sitting.

“Ah, yes, hello,” Alexander said thrown off. She was _not_ the same woman that he’d seen when he visited Scotland. He sat across from them and tried his best not to ask questions that with imply that he knew more than he was letting on. “We’re not actually dating, it’s a bit complicated right now.”

Sheryll laughed and her chin length dirty blonde hair bounced. “I remember going through that when I was your age. You both seem to be very taken with each other, so I wouldn’t worry if he likes you back or not,” she said kindheartedly. Her eyes were a light brown with speckles of yellow that reflected well with the afternoon light. Bright to the point where Alexander could almost gather off excess life energy from her.

James’ smile became a bit more genuine at the confirmation that he and John weren’t dating. “’Ay wouldn’t worry me boy, your heart will know what it wants.” Then he put an arm around Sheryll’s shoulder, pulled her in close, gave her an adoring look, and kissed her multiple times on the cheek.

“Oh, honey, not in front of Alexander. And we’re in public!” she giggled.

Again, Alexander had to push back anger towards a woman and beat down the steadily growing sense of wrongness. “So,” he cleared his throat, “what do you do for work?”

“Well, I used to work as a hairdresser, but since we married, I’ve been staying at home,” she said happily.

He glanced at her for a moment. “With kids?” he asked cautiously. She didn’t look like she was expecting given her thin physique.

Her bright eyes lost a bit of their light for just a moment. “No, we’ve been trying, and hopefully the good lord will bless us soon with a small miracle.”

“I wish you the best of luck.” He hoped that was the correct response to the woman revealing she had been adamantly fucking the man he hated with the goal of putting a baby in her. What a great image. Aside from that, this brought up a few more questions, like where the fuck was the other woman and their kids? “My father told me about a few of the dates you went on, but where did you guys meet?”

“My ex wife was ‘er boss ata beauty place she was workin’ at,” James explained.

“Maria was always speaking against him for every little thing,” Sheryll said with a wave of her hand. “It was really unfair how she would attack him for nothing. I was working a lot of hours and your father was always around…” she trailed off with a dreamy expression.

It was then when Alexander realized how young she looked. Not in the ‘she’s not legal’ type of way, but she appeared to be younger than his father by a few years. “Are you two just visiting here or settling down?”

“We’re living not too far from ‘ere-“ James started.

“We actually recently moved into my childhood home. Much more affordable than New York,” she interrupted. “The salon I worked at was in New York, sorry to confuse you.”

“No, it’s okay. We’ve only just met after all,” Alexander assured. And the conversation flowed smoothly from there. They ordered some food and drink while they spoke. It was mostly Alexander and his kinda stepmom who loved to chatter on about life.

Apparently, she had moved to New York to be an actress and became a hairdresser when that didn’t work out. She didn’t have the money to go to college and when she met James it was as if her prayers had been answered and her prince (or lord) came to sweep her away. She even seemed to take an interest in Alexander and what was going on with him.

Alexander had to give her a very edited version of his childhood, when she asked about his hobbies and the places he’d been while growing up. Sheryll also focused a bit too much on what group home life was like and fostering to the point where he decided that he’d have to giver her Knox’s number later.

During dips of silence he would check his phone and tell the over eager group chat that he was doing fine. No more information was given about ex-wives or kids. She spoke about the vacations they took, even one to visit the family manor in Scotland. James didn’t let them dwell on that topic for long though and switched it to Alexander’s writings.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” Sheryll said after two hours.

“I await yer glorious return,” James said as he kissed her hand.

She giggled and walked away with swaying hips. The way James looked at the woman was down right sinful. His eyes trailed her body from waist to legs and he had a wolfish hungry grin. “She’s quite a beauty isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

James reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a flask, and took a swig. “Not much o’ a conversation past the basics, but she ‘as the assets to look past it.”

And to think the man was disgusted by him and John.

His father took another gulp of the liquid and offered the metal container to him. “Wood you like some? Genuine Scotsman whiskey.”

“No thanks.” Every sip of the golden-brown liquid was a sip closer to a dead liver.

The door to the bathroom opened from the other side of the café and before Sheryll could see, he put the flask back in his coat. “My radiant queen,” James said as she approached.

“My lord,” she answered.

It was sappier than tree maple which caused Alexander to feel a cold feeling sinking through him. This happily ever after won’t last as long as forever for her.

They only spent another half an hour in the café together and Sheryll invited him to come to dinner with them in a few hours, at a sports bar of course, while James went to the counter with a credit card to pay for their food. “Maybe another time, I need to check in with my family.”

“That’s okay honey, I understand,” she said as James came back with the receipt. Then she looked back and forth between him and James, “Oh I almost forgot! Are you two going to get together for Father’s Day? That’d be so cute.”

Alexander froze. Fuckin’ Father’s Day. A refusal was about to come out of his mouth because he was going to spend the day with the Washington’s-

“O’ course we’re going ta get together!” James jeered. “It’ll be our first one.”

Shit, no!

“You two are the cutest!”

“Yep,” Alexander said nervously.

They finally began to exit the café and, Alexander shot John a text to come and pick him up. “I’ll wait wif him ‘ere until his friend comes. You should stay warm in the car, dear,” James said as he stroked her cheek.

“I’ll be awaiting your return to our carriage, my lord,” she flirted with batting eyes.

As soon as the woman was out of ear shot Alexander turned to his father. “Hey, about spending time together on Father’s Day-“

“I know it’s a wee bit odd fer us to spend the day wif each other, but ital be good fer father son quality time and all that,” James interrupted.

“Yeah, but also, I’m going to spend most of the day with my family-“

“Foster family?”

“Yeah, _my family_. And could you stop interrupting me?”

James stiffened and his eyes became squinted and took on a dangerous glint. “I’m sorry me boy, I thought you’d want to spend time with your actual family.” His voice may have become sharper, but his voice remained high and upbeat.

“I am,” Alexander responded firmly. His muscles tensed and his hands clenched into fists.

His father looked down at him, “then why ‘aven’t they adopted you yet?”

What the _fuck_? Alexander’s eyes began to sting, and he puffed out his chest to prepare for a fight.

“Don’tcha look at me like that. It was justa observation. Something for ya to think about. And ‘ere comes your friend, I’ll see ya in a couple of days,” James fondly said. He ruffled Alexander’s hair (to which he swatted at) and walked away just as John made it to them.

“So that’s you’re bio dad, huh?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Alexander said distantly.

John looked him over before tenderly wrapping his arms around him. “You doing okay?” He whispered.

“Yeah, just left a bit speechless.” No way he could tell anyone of that last bit or else James wouldn’t just have Master coming for his head.

“Figures that only a Hamilton can do that to another Hamilton,” John said as he pulled away. He then shrugged off half his coat to share it with Alexander.

“Thanks.” He let himself rest into John’s warmth for the duration of their walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long and that this is only the first part. It got way out of hand and I needed to split it up. Good news, 3k into the next (and hopefully last one). I also tried out some different accents though this, and I think it worked marginally well.  
> Also, seeing as this was supposed to be one big thing, I might have to change this chapter if something unplanned comes up in the next part. Just a heads up.


	13. The First Father's Day pt:2

His foster. His family was naturally curious when he returned home, and Alexander put on the best front of happiness he could for them. It was easy for most of the recollection, except when he caught George’s posture change when Alexander mentioned that James wanted to spend Father’s Day with him. One problem solved to immediately be thrown into another.

And he almost broke when he got to the part where him and James stood outside the café. “He waited outside with me until John came,” Alexander said, trying not to sound strained. He laughed to try to cover it up, “as if anything that bad could happen to me in small town Virginia.” They didn’t need to hear his hurtful words and Alexander didn’t need the family drama and heartache that came with them.

It was a lot harder when Master appeared in his room later that night.

“Hello child. Was your meeting with your father everything you thought it was going to be?” he asked. Today he took on the physical shape of a human, but instead of putting in details he remained an inky black, like a walking three dimensional shadow.

“Everything I thought it was going to be and more,” Alexander grumbled, “and I’m not a child. I’m seventeen.”      

“Always a child to me. Now ask the burning questions I know you have.”

“I don’t understand. He’s shitty, yes, not as shitty as I thought, but not good,” Alexander started.

“And you wish he was better?”

“Hell no! The worse he is the easier it is for me to hate him.”

Master tilted his form’s neck to the side in a questioning position, though one that made it appear as if he snapped his spine. “That is an unhealthy behavior. You were better before when you had moved on.”

“That’s not the point and we’re not talking about that right now!” Alexander exclaimed at a low volume. He didn’t want to wake his whole family up. “I keep getting the feeling that there is something more to this. Something that I’m not seeing.”

To get Master’s full perspective, Alexander recounted his story again, while still leaving out the adoption bit. “What do you think?”

The black form melted into mist to surround him. “He’s guilty of something. Does it matter?”

“Of course it does! He’s probably using her for something and I’m sure he’s trying to use me too. Do you know anything about his last wife?”

“I don’t bother in the personal business of humans.”

“Can you find out?” Alexander pleaded.

The mist swirled around him like a tornado and as it simmered out of existence, Master’s voice echoed off the walls. “Just for you…”

Alexander couldn’t sleep. All he could do was write the events of the day to try to find similarities between Sheryll, his mother, and himself. Sheryll and his mother were both beautiful and in love with his father. Two traits they (presumably) also shared with Filipino woman. Other than that, he didn’t have much to go off.

Around one thirty in the morning Master came back into the room. “Maria Campanella. Age 37. Owner of La Bella Capelli hair salon in New York, New York.”

He immediately typed her name into google and in an instant her social media popped up in the results. She had a baby about a year ago while she was still married to his father. There were some passive aggressive Facebook posts about her ex-husband, and a short note (written half in Italian) of her being excited about her divorce.

“It didn’t really help. I still don’t know what’s going on,” Alexander said as he looked through her feed for the third time.

Master blipped back into the space, “I’m at a loss at what you should do.”

“I want to go talk to her.”

“Isn’t it too early to drop by?”

“In the morning then, when her salon opens.” Alexander closed his laptop and tried to get comfortable in bed.

“Are you sure you want to do this? It may be best for you to focus on the now. It’s not your job to figure out and fix his past wrongdoings,” Master pointed out. Now that the room was completely dark it was easier for him to form a solid hand to physically stroke his fingers through Alexander’s hair.

“True, but who would I be if I willingly let them happen to someone else?” Alexander yawned through the question.

“Alexander Hamilton, as you always are.”

He snuggled into his pillow as the comforting blanket of mist surrounded him. “It was a morally rhetorical question, Mr. Mushroom,” he mumbled as he fell asleep.

 

A ding sounded as Alexander walked into the busy salon in New York City. It was nice to be back in the big apple, even if it did bring back unwarranted memories and family connections. “Hello, do you have an appointment?” A woman said at the small front desk. Even if the salon was busy, there were still open chairs because there weren’t enough stylists.

“No ma’am, I’m here to talk to Ms. Maria Campanella,” Alexander answered politely.

She blinked and gave him a once over. “What do _you_ need to talk to her about?”

“My father, James Hamilton.” May as well bite the bullet and get the objectively worse part out in the open.

“Who said that _fuckin’_ name in my salon!?” A woman shouted.

He peered past the desk lady and at the person he saw in many of the Facebook photos. She was currently teasing an older woman’s hair and staring straight into his soul. “Me ma’am. I need to speak with you about my father.”

Maria gave him a once over like the woman at the desk. “Figures he’d have a thirteen-year-old kid that’d come lookin’ for him.”

“I’m seventeen,” he gritted out as his face went red. “And I already know where he is, I want to know what he’s done.”

Her comb froze for a moment and her eyes became sharp. “What he did?” she said with a fake laugh. “The bastard constantly cheated on me and took off with my employee. There you go.”

“I need more-“

“I toldja what happened, now get your ass out of here. I don’t wanna think about my ex anymore.”

“But Miss, please I can’t go back to Virginia-“

Their argument was interrupted by a little girl that crawled out of the back part of the store. “Can someone grab her before she stuffs somethin’ in her face?!” Maria yelled to her busy staff.

One of the girls fumbled and other just looked down at her customer, so Alexander took it upon himself handle the little girl. The child had dark hair and bright green eyes, both from her mother, and pale porcelain skin from her father. Surprisingly enough, she was also completely fine in the arms of a stranger. “Hey there princess, what’s your name?” Alexander asked.

“Gianna,” her mother answered. “What do you think you’re doing holding her?”

Alexander rocked the giggling girl back and forth as he held her at his hip. “Everyone else seemed busy. I’m pretty good with children, I’ve had a lot of foster siblings since I’ve came to America.”

Finally, the older woman’s face softened to something resembling human empathy and she studied him again. “You came all the way from Virginia to talk ta me? That’s a long way from home.”

“It’s a shorter trip than you think.”

“Come on, Marie,” the woman in the chair said. “I’ve heard about it for the last few years, you could tell the boy too."

Maria let out a loud groan. “Fine. How ‘bout this kid, you watch her and help me sweep up tonight and I’ll tell you some stories afta I close.”

“Deal.”

The salon didn’t close until ten at night and by then, he was exhausted. Gianna was an energetic little girl that kept him running after her all day, never slowing down and always babbling about something. She was going to be quite a firecracker when she grew up. Alexander fell asleep in one of the barber’s chairs with his little half sibling sleeping soundly on his chest. He awoke with a rough shaking of his shoulder.

“Sorry, I’ll help you sweep,” Alexander groggily said. He was careful not to wake his small relative as he sat up to stretch.

“Don’t worry about it.” She sat at the station next to him and lit a cigarette. “So, what more do you wanna know?”

“You don’t have to go in any detail if you don’t want to, but I want the name of his ex-wife before you.”

She took a long drag, “before I go inta my heart throbbin’ story of love and betrayal, I wanna know why you’re doing this. If you know where he is then why bother talkin’ to me?”

“Someone needs to hold him accountable for what he’s doing, even if no one else cares,” Alexander said resolutely.

Maria accepted his answer and started her story. They met because he was visiting New York after he separated from his last wife. “I just got divorced too, the guy was also a piece of shit, and I wanted to give relationships a break. But I thought it was a run of good luck to meet another newly divorced person at the bar.”

The woman before her was named Allana Kaiwi, someone who he only mentioned to her that night at the bar. Alexander wrote down the woman’s name and let Maria continue with her story.

From there they courted for a few months and decided to tie the knot. “It was too quick, and I’ll admit it, I was vulnerable. When I found out he was still regularly going to the strip clubs, I turned a blind eye. When people told me that he may be cheatin’ on me, I ignored them. But, when they said that he was fuckin’ my employee, one that I took off the streets with the kindness of my own heart, when I was giving birth to his child, I couldn’t ignore them anymore.”

Alexander would have jumped to his feet and raised his voice in disbelief if he didn’t have a sleeping infant on him. “They did what?”  

Maria nodded. “I slapped him with the divorce papers afta that stunt. He didn’t care, he had his floozy on his left arm, and he signed them with his right. She’s a damn fool. At least I didn’t have a clue what he was doing to me at the time, but her, she saw it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have the best father, kid. I went through at my financials afta he took off, and thank god he left when he did. I had to cancel all credit cards and get all the money I could from him. Almost lost this store in the process. He told me he was a lord, he came from money. So, when he takes you out and buys nice things, you assume it’s his money.”

“Oh shit.”

“I’ll be payin’ it off for the rest of my life,” she put her cigarette out and looked down to her daughter. “No way I’ll be able to put her through college.”

Gianna woke up briefly and snuggled into his chest. “He doesn’t pay child support?”

“He don’t pay for a damn thing. Remember that.”

“I will.” Alexander carefully got to his feet and handed the sleeping child off to her mother. “Thanks for everything, I know it’s not easy to remember.”

“That it certainly is,” she said walking him to the door. “You don’t hafta leave. I don’t mind puttin’ you up for a night.”

Alexander grinned at her, “I’d stay, but I have a long trip to Hawaii ahead of me.”

She snorted. “Good luck wit that. But kid, if you find yourself back in New York, you should stop by. Gia seemed ta take a liking to her big brother.”

His throat closed marginally, and his eyes stung briefly. “Will do, Miss. Goodnight.” When he left the door let out a little ding.

As Alexander walked down the darkened streets of New York without fear, a black shadow followed him until he ducked into a passing alley way. “Did you find what you were looking for?” the disembodied voice asked.

“Unfortunately. We’re going to Hawaii to find Allana Kaiwi.”

The mist surrounded him, and in a moment, they were in a tropical island paradise, and better yet, it was still light out. Bad news was that they were in the middle of a lava field.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

Master was barely visible now, but he was still able to answer quietly, “you said Hawaii and I brought you here. She lives on this island. I’ll pick you up next morning.”

And in a flash, Alexander was on his own again. It was going to get dark relatively soon, so it was his best option to find shelter. The island may be a tropical paradise, but tropical paradises tended to have very scary things that come out at night like mosquitos that carry viral diseases. He’d seen enough people die from those on field trips to know that’s not the way he’d want to go out.

Alright. Shelter. Around him was blackened volcanic rock that destroyed all plant life and dwellings that was in its way. Far away, there stood one house on stilts, so he began to walk to it. He could find a nearby town in the morning where the woman probably lived, but for now the random house would have to do.

When Alexander finally reached it, he noted that it was new (obviously lava isn’t stopped by lifting a house in the air), had a spacious gardening area with solar panels, and an old car. He could faintly hear some giggles and passionate noises from the other side of the door, but he decided to knock anyway. It took a minute, but a ragged shirtless muscular man answered. “Hey, sorry to bother you two, but I got dumped here and it’s almost night. Can I sleep here? I’ll be picked up tomorrow.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he examined Alexander. “Hey birdie, you mind if this kid stays here tonight?”

A woman stumbled out of a back room wearing a sheet. “I don’t care,” she said with a joy filled laugh. “You’re lucky, we didn’t have dinner yet.”

Alexander stepped into the building cautiously, aware that the man was following him with his eyes. “I really appreciate it, my name is Alexander by the way, and I’ll be gone in the morning, I swear.”

The man shrugged and spoke with a low tone, “we’ve all run away from home once in our lives, don’t sweat it kid.”

“My name is Allana and that’s Geoff,” the woman laughed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Alexander said honestly and discreetly eyed the woman. So, Master had dropped him off close by after all, he just wanted Alexander to walk to it. Prick move.

The pair disappeared into their room and came out a few minutes later, her in a bright orange flowered dress and the man with a pair of ripped jeans and a stained wife beater. When they emerged, it gave Alexander a chance to study them.

She was a shorter woman at around five foot three and had a solid figure that was feminine but indicated muscle. Allana also had long voluptuous black hair that reached her mid back and he could imagine it waving elegantly in the wind. “Looks like you interrupted us just in time.” She turned to Geoff, “can you go pick some herbs and vegetables for dinner?”

“Sure birdie, kid you want to come with me?” Geoff said. He had short black hair and piercing blue eyes. Compared to Allana and Alexander, he was also very tall in stature, at least six foot four.

“Nah, I want him in the kitchen with me. You can pick vegetables by yourself, looser,” she joked.

He cracked a smile and quickly let it disappear, “anything you want.”

With him out of the house, Alexander followed her into the small kitchen and pulled out a small pan and cutting board. It was a new house, but it looked bigger from the outside, like one of those tiny homes on HGTV. Case in point, the stove top was just one burner, a small sink, no dishwasher, but a normal sized fridge.

“Want to help me gut and cut this fish?”

He nodded and helped her cut it open and descale it. “Your last name wouldn’t be Kaiwi, would it?”

“Yes Mr. Hamilton, it is.”

Alexander blinked in surprise, “how did you know?”

“You look exactly like him, only left out in the sun for a little while.”

“Right.”

“And just like him, you’ll be gone in the morning.”

Ouch. “Hey, I know I look like my father, but I can assure you that I’m not like that.”

“Sorry,” she said in a genuine voice. “I’ve mostly moved on, but I just had to say one thing.” Allana went back to stripping the scales from the meat. “Why did you come here?”

“He’s recently come back into my life again and he was acting suspicious, so I wanted to see what he’s been up to since he’s been gone. I know he’s trying to screw me and his new wife over, but I want to know how.”

“I see. I’ll tell you my story, but it’ll have to be quick. If Geoff finds out you’re James’ kid, he’ll run you out of here with his gun.”

“Noted.”

She found him relaxing on the beach during midday heat. “Honestly, he looked like a bum. Barley shaven, hadn’t showered in days, and bottles of Scottish whiskey around him. We struck up a conversation and it didn’t take long for him to charm me.”

Allana could go back to her parent’s house anytime she wanted, but they didn’t want him there. So instead of parting ways, they spent countless days together drinking and having sex under the stars. With the warm climate, abundant fruit trees, and relaxed atmosphere it was easy to either stay outside or move around from place to place.

“Of course, it couldn’t stay like that forever. I don’t know how long it took, but I became pregnant and I knew we had to change our lifestyle. To settle down, you know?” They tried to, they rented a house under her name and she stayed at home to get prepared for the baby. With the combination of his family’s money and his job at a tourist agency, it was enough for them to live on.

“And then one day he didn’t come home. I waited for him and made excuses as to why he wasn’t coming home. He’s working overtime, he’s out drinking, he’s on a fishing trip, anything to make me feel better until I tried to pay the rent and I couldn’t. I couldn’t pay anything and eventually Mala and I were evicted.”

They tried to go back to her parents, but they didn’t want to take both her and a baby. “So I let them take Mala while I tried to put my life back together. He ruined my credit, but not my reputation, so I was able to get a job and steadily get out of debt.”

And she was working as a clerk at a convenience store when she met Geoffrey, a marine stationed on Hawaii. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything, she already knew that would only lead to trouble, but every time he came into the store, she would speak to him.

“I must admit, for a while it was mostly a one-sided conversation and he’d only grunt as a reply to me.” She’d always speak to him, and he never seemed to be in pleased in any way from the conversations, but he always came back. “Maybe that’s why I fell for him,” she looked out the window with a dream like expression for a moment, “he always came in at seven pm on Sunday and Wednesday, never a moment sooner or later. The only times he didn’t come in was for military duty, and he always told me.”

It stayed like that until one day he said that he was being moved to Japan for a few months and they wouldn’t see each other. “When he stopped coming in, I felt similar to when James left, but at least Geoff told me.” He came back after six months and when he walked through the door, she engulfed him in a hug which he slowly returned.

“Then he asked me out to dinner. And the rest went from there. I kept working and with his pay from the military, we were able to buy this place. Soon, I think we’ll be able to bring Mala back into our lives.”

When she finished there were tears in her eyes that sparkled from the rays of the setting sun and she was smiling. “Things can get better if you let them.”

There was probably a lot more to that story, more than she had the time to tell. Probably a story that was filled with different types of tears and mental breakdowns. And because she looked like she needed it, Alexander hugged her, which she gladly accepted.

The door creaked open and Geoff stared at them from the doorway. “Everything alright?”

“He asked me how we met,” she sniffed, “I just love that story.”

“I like that story too,” he deadpanned.

Alexander looked up at her. “Was that serious?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she pulled away. “You get enough veggies?”

Geoff nodded and helped them with the rest of the food preparation. Allana chatted with him and dominated most of the conversation keeping it light and airy. Alexander would throw in bits about his own life when ever he could, and Geoff stayed quiet, save of the occasional low throated noise.

Eventually they successfully made lomi-lomi, which is a traditional salmon salad side dish. Conversation flow was similar until Alexander brought up the military. “I was thinking about going into the military after high school and then use the G.I bill for college.”

“It’s not a bad path,” Geoff said. His face was blank and passive, “you seem to be more of the writer type.”

“I love to fight,” Alexander asserted.

“That’s not what you’re going to get in the military.”

“No, but it will also give me more opportunities.”

“Or you could die.”

“I won’t.”

A tense silence fell over the table that Allana couldn’t even break through. “You don’t know that. If the country went to war, do you think you’d be ready to die for it?”

Alexander looked on with firm posture and fire in his eyes. “Absolutely. But I won’t die. I know I look small, but I’m a lot more capable than you think.”

“I believe you. At least you don’t plan on being a martyr. That’s how people end up dead when they don’t have to be.” When he said that he was looking at Alexander, but not really, a type of thousand-yard stare.

Allana put a comforting hand on his shoulder which he relaxed marginally into. “How about we clean up?”

It didn’t take long to put the leftovers in the fridge and the scraps in the composter in the kitchen. “We use it in the garden downstairs. The basil and the tomatoes especially like it.”

“I’ll need to start a compost pile when I get home. I think Martha would like it,” Alexander said idly. Geoff retreated to their room while Allana and Alexander set up the small couch.

“Martha?” Allana asked.

“My foster mother. Her and my foster father love to garden. I just got her a hat and a pair of gloves for Mother’s Day.” It was easier to admit that to people who had no connection to his life, and it felt good to say what those gifts were actually for. They weren’t just a ‘finally it’s fucking spring’ gift to Alexander, even if he had to frame it that way.

“You should give him a big bucket or dig a hole in the ground to act as a composter for Father’s Day then. It’d be pretty cute.”

Fuck. Father’s Day. What was the date? For the first time since he’d begun this adventure Alexander thought about how much time he was spending going out to find his father’s mistakes.

“What’s wrong Alex?”

“James wants me to spend Father’s Day with him and that’s what led me to do this.”

“Find me?”

“You and the others. Might come as a surprise, but you aren’t the first person he’s done this to. He’s doing it to another woman right now,” Alexander said dully.

For her part, Allana didn’t looked shocked or break out into a crying spell. She just sat down next to him on the couch. “Alexander, I told you my story and how I got here today. It was a sad story of the past but look around now.” She gestured to the house and to the room where Geoff was. “Everything I have now is a result of the past and of him, but I don’t dwell on that. I’m too busy making better memories here.”

“What would you do if he came back into your life?”

She smiled, “I’d say hello, let him buy me lunch, catch up, and send him away. I’ve moved on and I don’t need him anymore.”

Maria’s words from yesterday hit him like a train. _He never pays for anything_. “You wouldn’t be mad at him because of what he did to you? What he’s doing to other people?”

“What he does with others is none of my concern. I would feel anger, and the feeling of betrayal never goes away, but you feel better once you realize that you’re not going to let him do that to you again. He has no power over you unless you give it to him.”

This speech was similar to the one Alexander had with Master. Move on. Live your life. It doesn’t matter. But they’re wrong, it does matter. It matters what he did and what he’s doing. While staring at his lap Alexander asked, “do you know the name of the wife before you?”

When Allana didn’t answer he looked her in the face. She was frowning at him with sad eyes.

“I do. But I’m not going to tell you.”

“Allana, please!”

“No.” She got up. “Your happiness isn’t with this journey and it isn’t with him. Good night, Alexander.”  She disappeared into the bedroom.

They were all in bed, but it wasn’t that late at night. Alexander hadn’t checked a clock in a while, but he knew it couldn’t be past nine at night. With his laptop and cell phone at home, all he could do was lie awake. And it was fuckin’ terrible.

Because after his talk with Allana, Alexander began to think, something he clearly hadn’t done that in a while, and certainly not before he decided to go on this adventure. Like what was he going to do with all this information now? It’s not like he hold his father really accountable in anyway for all this. Sure, he stole multiple woman’s credit and money, but from the sound of it he did so in a legal way.

The obvious answer was to tell Sheryll what was going on to get her out of the hole before it became her grave, but would she listen? The other option was to let his father keep doing it. He didn’t want to sound like Burr, but really, was it his business what his father is doing?

“Hey.”

Alexander jumped and fell off the couch from the sudden voice. When his heart calmed enough, he brought his attention to Geoff, who was standing over him. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“If you’re going into the military, you’ll need to get used to it. Keep it down. Don’t want birdie to wake up.”

He straightened himself and slumped back on the couch. “Why are you out here?” Guy was lucky he didn’t call out for Master.  

“Analyn Mendoza,” Geoff said.

“What?”

“When birdie told me about him, I decided to look into it for her and I got a lot of the same speech.” Geoff gave him a piece of paper with the name on it. “I didn’t come from the best place either, kid. I would do the same if I could. For my family and for her.”

He looked down at the note and back up to the other man. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Geoff turned to face the bedroom door, and while Alexander couldn’t see his expression, emotion flavored his voice that conveyed fondness. “March on little soldier.”

Even if he couldn’t see it, Alexander gave him a small salute. Now it was harder to fall asleep with the name of the last person he needed to speak to. He decided to stop lying on the couch and straighten out the blankets and leave a nice note for the couple. They were the best hosts he could have asked for in this adventure.

It took longer than he would have liked for Master to pop into the room. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes.” Alexander held up the paper. “Analyn Mendoza, judging by the fact that she had three children when we last saw her, she’s most likely the last woman we need to see.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Yeah, why the hell did you make me walk through a lava field to get to this house?”

Master placed a gelatinous tentacle arm atop his head. “You need the exercise.”

“Douche.”

Bellowing laughter bounced from Master as they teleported away.

 

It took almost a full day for Master to find where the next woman lived. Apparently, there were a lot of women with he same name, so he often had to look into each one’s personal life. When Master finally found her, he dropped Alexander off in a squatter’s village. Field trips to these kinds of areas were common across many countries, especially when highly contagious diseases broke out.

But today things were calm. There were children running around playing and many of the adults had large smiles on their faces. The village was framed by mountains covered in lush foliage that reminded Alexander briefly of his home island, and somewhere, a long way off, the scent of salt drifted through the air. He quickly expelled that from his mind. He wasn’t here for memories.

It may have been nice that the place didn’t smell like death, but it was creepy how pleasant and helpful everyone was. Most people he stopped to chat with would point to where Analyn lived for him and one woman offered to take Alexander straight to her. He declined, not wanting to inconvenience the nice lady, so he arrived at the Mendoza house at early dusk.

The dwelling was made from what looked like wood and various pieces of metal scrap, being a squatter’s village, it was made to move if need be. “Kamusta? Anyone here?” Alexander called out carefully.

“Yes?” A woman greeted him, but not with the same smile that the rest of the villagers gave him. Her flat lined mouth dropped further when she took in his appearance, “what are you doing here?”

“Ah, hello ma’am. I’m Alexander Hamilton, are you Analyn Mendoza?”

Her frown deepened. “Analyn Mercado. Formally Hamilton. Formally Mendoza.” Unlike when Alexander observed her with his father years ago, her English was just as flawless as his own. She must have also worked hard to suppress any accent.  

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about James?”

“In the morning. You may sleep here if you like.” The light from the outside world was dim and there were no lights on in the home. Inside there were a hodgepodge of things to the point where nothing matched and it made the home look extra cluttered, even though it wasn’t.

Alexander chose a patch in the living room that was comfortable enough to collapse on and fell asleep. It’d been a long day and the place reminded him too much of island home. He was woken by a rooster’s crow right next to his ear.

“No used to a wakin’ up like that, mister?” a little boy’s voice said.

He almost hit the damn thing like an alarm clock. “Yeah, you could say that. Where’s your mom, kiddo?”

The little boy walked towards him. “She left to go to the market already. She told me to say that she’ll be back soon and to not go looking for her. My names Benjie, what’s yours?”

“Alexander,” he answered. The light of the sun started to seep into the house, and it didn’t take a detective to figure out that the kid was probably one of his half siblings. The blue violet eyes were the giveaway. There was a small pit of regret in his stomach when he remembered that he never got the chance to meet Mala, his other half sibling. “How old are you, kid?”

“Six!”

“Nice,” Alexander laughed. “Have any brothers or sisters?”

Benjie put on a proud expression, “ _I’m_ the oldest. Danilo is next and Dalisay was last.”

“That’s cool, I have an older brother named James.” Alexander decided to ignore the past tense used for the little girl.

The boy gasped, “my mom said that my father’s name was James. Maybe they’re the same.”

Almost kid. “Nah, James is only a year older than me. What are you doing up this early, kiddo?”

“I need to get me and Danilo ready for school.”

Fuck, he forgot about school. Double fuck, he forgot about Father’s Day. He is so triple fucked when he gets home. How long had he been doing this again? “I can help if you want.”

Benjie beamed. “That’d be cool.”

The other boy really didn’t want to wake up and wanted to leave his room even less when he got a good look at Alexander. It took Benjie at least eight minutes to convince his brother that Alexander wasn’t a strange man in their house that was there to hurt them. When it came time for breakfast Alexander noted that the food in the house was sparse, so he decided to take none. They were too thin and much too tiny for their age.

Idly, he wondered if George had similar thoughts about him when he first took up residence at the Washington manor. He waved at them as they left for school and promised that he’d be there when they returned. It didn’t take long after that for the lady of the hour to come home and look at him with disdain.

In the light of day Alexander could see how much older the woman got. Sure, when he’d seen her with the Hamilton family, she had the face of an exhausted mother, but now there were more wrinkles, especially on her hands, and heavier bags under her eyes. “You’re the talk of the town,” she started smoothly.

“Really? I haven’t been in it for too long.” He sat on a rugged couch that he wished he saw last night when going to sleep, and she decided to perch on a bar stool. Analyn sat with crossed legs and a straight back, the picture of poise.

“Yes. We love tourists here and it didn’t escape everyone in the town that you look like my last husband. Some of them even thought you were him.”

An uneasy feeling settled through Alexander’s body. “I’m not.”

Her eyes slowly trailed him, and her expression didn’t change. “No one knows that yet.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Conversation dipped and she stared at him. Her eyes were out of focus and clouded with memories. “How long will you be staying?”

“After the boys get home from school. I promised I’d stay until then.” It wasn’t often he got to spend time with blood relatives he actually liked.

That answer seemed to be the right one because her eyes came back into focus and her mouth went into less of a frown. “Why are you here?”

“I came to visit because of James. He recently come back into my life with his new wife and he was acting strange, so I’ve been tracing his past.”

“What have you found?”

“He’s been marrying women and destroying their credit to live the high life for a short period of time and them leaving. Often with children.”

“That would describe what he did to me quite well,” Analyn said, her voice sharp. Her eyes went back out of focus for some time as memories flashed over them.  

“I wanted to speak to you because I think you were the woman he went to after my mother.”

“And I presume she’s dead?”

Alexander froze. The smell came back to him first. Damp sickness and death clinging to everything, how clammy she felt and how hoarse her voice had been when she mumbled nonsense near the end. The jumbled thoughts made his stomach turn to the point where he was glad he didn’t eat breakfast. “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be too dour about it,” she started, Analyn’s expression and voice as cold as ever, “after all, widows and orphans are made every day.”

While Alexander wanted to shout at her for belittling him on his emotions from his mother’s death, he instead kept looking at her. Her eyes were still clouded, her hair had almost no shine, her breathing was off, and her body screamed exhaustion. The word ‘pneumonia’ popped into his head which lead to the time frame of six months. “You’re sick.”

She nodded, “my chest is heavy, and it feels as though I’m drowning in no water.”

“Why not get help?”

“The nearest doctor that could is very far away, I doubt we could make the trip and we have no money to make it anyway.”

He stood up and approached her, “what about your boys?”

“They’ll manage. My new husband is a kind man, he’ll take care of them and find them a new mother.”

“You’re going to give up?” Alexander asked incredulously. He’s no stranger to where thoughts lie when hopelessness takes over, but it wasn’t often he got to see this part. Usually when Master took him to these people, they were already gone.

“Giving up would be taking a dagger to my heart. I’m living what my body will allow me.”

“But you’re not doing anything to prevent it!”

She stepped down from her perch and invaded his personal space. “Do you wonder why? I will never be able to pay off the debt he left me in. My husband and I work to the bone and it still is not enough. I’m worth more dead than I am standing here.”

They stared into each other’s eye and eventually he looked away. While Alexander didn’t _like_ her mode of reasoning, it _was_ logical. “It’s still not fair to your kids and your husband,” he sighed.

“I want to be with my daughter.”

“You have people here that care about you!”

“Death isn’t fair, and death does not care for the bonds we make here.”

Alexander surprised her with a saddened grin, “you got me there.” Master doesn’t really have the capacity to care like that for every single person. “When I get back to America, I’ll send you some penicillin. Will you take it?”

“If it pleases you to, you can send some. I doubt I’ll be around by the time it gets here.” Her reluctance was noticeable in her voice to the point where Alexander doubted she would if it arrived on time. People will do what they want even if it will hurt the ones they love.

“You’d be surprised how fast I can move around. Would you be up to telling me stories about my father?”

“No.”

“That’s fair. What about your culture? Or your new husband? Or your boys? Little Benjie is a real go getter.”

“I wish not to speak about them either.”

Alexander huffed, “don’t you want to have any conversation?”

“No.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “What are we supposed to do while we wait for the boys to get home?”

“Help me around the house quietly.”

Eh, he’s had to do worse things. They spent a couple hours doing chores in and out of the home. The people in the village were especially nice and offered to talk, even when Analyn didn’t. Every once and a while Master would appear for a few minutes to watch them. Once when he appeared, Analyn just happened to be turned in his direction, but she didn’t react. Small blessings.

Many people stopped by the abode to chat to the point where Alexander had to use his limited knowledge of their language. Analyn stayed out of all the speech, but eventually, she pulled him away from her prying neighbors. “You’re so much like him. Always a silver tongue.”

“I’m not trying to influence people or anything, I just like to talk.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“It would be better if you joined in.”

At this she stopped sharply as if caught off guard. “Why?”

“I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

Analyn kept staring at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Alexander asked. The needlessly creepy staring was starting to get to him.

“Your father likes a quiet woman. Or one he can easily ignore.”

“I’m not him, am I?”

“You’re still here!” Benjie yelled as he careened through the house. He tackled Alexander in a large hug along with Danilo a few seconds later.

“Of course I’m still here!” Alexander said. It was a nice change in lightened atmosphere. “What do you guys want to do?”

Kids were always a good way to take your mind off the tragedies of your life. The news about his arrival had spread to the children as well, and his younger half brothers had gathered all their friends to play football. It’d been a long while since he’d been so physically active, and Alexander was sure that Master was watching from somewhere laughing his non-existent ass off.

He almost passed out a few times, but it was a fun game with a bunch of five to ten-year-olds. The older children would challenge him when the littler ones wanted to take a break. They kicked around the ball until they wanted to play their version of tag and when the children were board with that, they threw around small objects in a game of catch.

When it was time for supper Alexander was exhausted and glad the sun was going down. Dinner wasn’t much, just some old fish and rice, the boys told him earlier that their father had went out fishing with some of the other men and would be back in a few days.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Danilo said when Analyn left the table to clean the kitchen. “Mom usually wants silence all the time.”

“Yeah, I got that from her today,” Alexander responded.

“It’s funny, you kinda remind me of someone. I don’t really remember who,” Benjie said squinting his hardest at him.

A pang of sadness washed over Alexander. “Everyone is so friendly here, I’m sure I just remind you of one of the other villagers.”

Benjie was about to reply when Analyn interrupted them. “It’s time to get ready for bed, boys.” She sounded calm, but stern.

“C’mon, I’ll help you two.” Alexander went through their nightly routine with them and got the two boys tucked into their bed. “Alright kiddos, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’ll be here when we wake up?” Danilo asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“I’ll be here to see you guys off from school, and then I’m going to head home,” Alexander said gently.

The younger boy looked as if he was going to cry, but Alexander walked to the bed and hugged him. “Hey, no, it’s okay.”

“You’re going to leave us, and we’ll be alone again,” Danilo cried.

“What are you talking about? You’re not alone, you have your Mom and Dad.”

“Not really,” Benjie mumbled. They only had one bed in the room, so the slightly other brother sat on the other side. “Dad’s always out hunting or working, and Mom always wants us to not talk to her and keep a quiet home.”

From what he’s observed, those weren’t inaccurate statements. Alexander tried not to think about how lonely his brothers would feel when their mother chooses to pass. “I’m not going to be gone forever. I’ll visit again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He bid them good night once more and walked out to the living room and collapsed on the couch. Someone shaking his shoulder roughly woke him up in the morning.

“I thought you would leave last night,” Analyn said as she glared down at him.

Alexander stretched his tried limbs and rubbed his sleep filled eyes. “I was really tired, and I promised the boys that I’d see them off.”

“Leave after.”

“Why are you so intent on me leaving? You were comfortable with me yesterday.”

“You wanted answers and you got them. You have other places to be.”

How ominous of her. Wait, what day was it again? Alexander mentally tallied the number of days he’d been gone in his head. Mother Fucker. “What’s the date today?” he asked just in case he got it wrong.

Analyn looked up from preparing breakfast, “June fifteenth.”

He fell back on the couch with a loud groan. The woman’s ominous warning had come a day too late, it was a day past Father’s Day. Figures he’d skip out on all his paternal guardians. That must have been the reason why Master was checking up on him so much the day before, Alexander was supposed to be home. At least he didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

Benjie and Danilo woke soon after and gave him tearful hugs and goodbyes. “Don’t cry little guys, I’ll visit soon.”

As they walked down the street they would look back and wave at him until they were out of sight. “Now you and your dark spirit can leave.”

“My what? Oh, you mean him. He’s not a dark spirit.” At his mention, Master appeared in a dim corner of the kitchen and waved at Alexander. “You’re getting really bad at staying hidden.”

The humanoid shrugged. “She knew.”

Analyn backed away from Master. “Evil spirit, take your property and get out of my home!”

“Alexander is my child.”

She looked back and forth between the two.

“I’m adopted, remember?” Alexander said with a little laugh at the end. It didn’t work to defuse the situation. “Well, I’m just going to go now. Thank you for your hospitality.” He walked past her to the dark corner and Master put his hand on his shoulder.

And then Analyn began to laugh hysterically. The liquid in her lungs made it sound wet and painful.

What the _fuck_? Alexander stepped forward before they left. “Are you okay? Why are you-“

“That’s why you’re doing this? Why you’ve come to speak to me? You and your spirit are going to kill him for his sins!” she laughed on. Her mouth was twisted, and her eyes sparkled with cruel intent. “It makes sense now!”

“No, that’s not what I’m doing! He’s not meant to go for another twenty years.”

She just kept laughing to the point there were tears in her eyes. “Finally, my prayers answered. Make sure you make it painful.”

“I’m not killing him! He’s dying of alcohol poisoning twenty years from now. It’s not happening.”

The laughter turned to giggles and she wiped the wetness from her face. “I don’t believe you’re the type of person to let him continue with his misdeeds.” She walked up to him and bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said, sincere and honest.

“I’m not going to do it.”

Analyn turned away from him, but he could somehow still see her crooked smile. “If something does happen to him, let me know. I need something good in my life to happen before I die.”

Alexander took a deep breath. “Sure Lyn, I’ll do that.”

And then they were gone.

 

When they reappeared, Alexander had his eyes closed and he took in the significantly cooler and less humid air. It was nice to finally be back in Virginia, and hopefully he could get some rest before he had to sneak into school. He really needed to sit down and organize his thoughts.

When he opened his eyes however, he was not at the Washington manor or in front in the school, instead he was face to face with a white door. Alexander took a step back to see a one-story house that he didn’t recognize. “Where are we?”

“Sheryll’s abode.”

“Why did you take me here?”

Instead of answering, Master flipped his hand as if doing a magic trick and handed Alexander his cell phone, which he’d left at home on this delightful adventure. Over fifty missed calls and literally hundreds of texts that had been unanswered. And then he got a glance at the date and time. He’d been eleven hours ahead in the Philippians, which meant the date happened to be eight thirty at night on June the fourteenth.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to part two of this surprising three-part arc to this story. Probably should have just made this a sequel, but fuck it, we’re here already.
> 
> For anyone whose curious, I couldn’t find much info on James Hamilton Sr, so I based him off my great uncle who would go around America and marry women, have children, run up their credit, and leave. Each woman is based off close relatives who have told me stories of their lives and I worked them together. So, a lot of these stories (and mentalities) are true, or at least have elements of truth to them


	14. The Final Father's Day

“You should take me back home, I’m too wound up to deal with him right now.” It had been an informative couple of days that lead Alexander to a lot of unfortunate conclusions. He was exhausted to the point where if he were to go on a plane, they would charge him extra for all the goddamn emotional baggage he had.

“You have to be here,” the disembodied voice said. It was already dark out, but Master kept himself in his comforting mist form.

Alexander looked at him and scoffed. “Are you the keeper of destiny now?”

“I will always try to push you towards the correct path…” Master’s voice echoed out signifying the end of the conversation.

He was always so damn dramatic. It’s not like he was actually gone, if Alexander called for him, Master would be back in a fraction of a second. But now Alexander’s attention shifted back to the off-white door of Sheryll’s house. His stomach twisted and his hands twitched as he stood on the stoop. “Fuck it,” he muttered as he quickly knocked on the door.

It took a moment, but Alexander heard a lock click and the door opened with a whoosh. “’Ello there me boy! And ‘ere I thought you wouldn’t show!” James was smiling and spoke in a fast-paced happy tone, but his actions were strained. He wrapped his arms around Alexander and hugged him loosely.

Alexander didn’t want to put up with this bullshit right now, but he had a part to play, so he hugged his father back with the same lack of enthusiasm. He only had to play the scared abandoned child for an hour or two before going home to his real family anyway. Just an hour or two, he repeated in his head. Once the embrace was done, they went inside to the living room.

From what Alexander saw, the home looked as if it hadn’t been updated since the 1970’s. As in, the carpets were shaggy and stained along with the furniture. On a mismatched wooden coffee table there was a couple of Scottish whiskeys (three already empty) and snacks set up. The dim track lighting glistened off the full amber bottles.

Only one or two hours.

“So, where’s Sheryll?” Alexander started. Even if his opinion on the woman had soured a tad (like, really? Having sex with your boss’ husband while she’s giving birth), it would be nice to have her as a mediator or someone who could defuse a situation.

James poured the whiskey in two glasses and pushed one into Alexander’s hands. The older man sipped his death before answering. “She ran out to pick up a few things. She was rather upset that you didn’t show erlayier.”

Alexander had to hold in a scoff at his father’s play at emotional manipulation. “I was out all day.” Unlike his biological father, he didn’t touch his drink. Now, he was no stranger to the liquid, but he had school in the morning and if emotions ran high, and it wouldn’t do them good.

“With your _foster_ family?”

“Sure.”

“You know me boy, I’m proud of you,” James said suddenly.

“What?” Alexander had a life that provided him new experiences daily and as he got older less and less started to surprise him. Today wasn’t one of those days considering the older man’s choice of words. They caused an uneasy feeling that hurt his heart and made his body feel heavy. It was like being complimented by the king of garbage. Alexander liked it much better when George gave him a small smile after a hard day’s work or when Master ruffled his hair.

“I didn’t understand why ya wanted ta spend time with them instead o’ your real family at first, but now I do. And I ‘ave to say, you did better than your brother, an’ he ‘as to work for ‘is keep.”

The first thing that popped into Alexander’s mind was a curse at his brother for not telling him that he got a visit from their father. He would have remained on that delightfully rude fact if not for the implication on the latter half of the sentence. “You mean his apprenticeship with his father? His family is teaching him so he can open his own practice one day.”

“An he’s been workin’ for them all this time and will be for the next few years.” His eyes twinkled for the last part. “You though, nice ‘ouse, patrons from old wealth, and you don’t ‘ave to do a thing.”

Alexander took a deep breath. “Excuse me? You don’t even know the shit I had to go through to end up here. James works to make sure the family business succeeds and to have a better future, and I do that too. I work as Mr. Washington’s assistant after school by choice because I want to help him out. Unlike you, we work for what we want and stick with our families!”

This finally caused the man to lose his playfulness. “Aye came back didn’t I?”

“It’s not like you came back because you wanted to or felt some sort of obligation. If that were true you would have gone back to Maria or Allana or Analyn.” The three women were wronged horribly by this man, and Alexander can still see Allana’s haunted face when she explained that he _never_ came back. Abandonment like that can never truly be fixed in a person, no matter how much love they receive. Not to mention his own mother’s anguish that was so, so similar. Crying and silently wishing her husband would come back to take away the pain.

At this point James slowly switched out his glass with a bottle. “’Ow long ‘ave you known about them?”

“A few days. It was some work to track them down,” Alexander responded slowly. “On my way, I met a little girl named Gianna.”

“She’s a cute little girl, ain’t she?”

“She is,” Alexander agreed. “Benjie and Danilo were nice to meet too. I didn’t get to see Mala, though, and Dalisay, of course.”

“So, you met some of your wee siblins? Impressive that your foster family paid for such trips. I told you that ya set yourself up nice.”

Alexander’s eye twitched, and his muscles tensed in an effort to keep calm. “You still think I’m using them like you did with all those women?” He tightened the hold on his glass to keep himself physically calm. To keep himself mentally soothed he remembered that the man would be dead of liver damage soon.

The older man eyed Alexander with a critical expression. “Of course. Yer using them to better yourself. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” He said that last part with a small hand wave and nursed his bottle of whiskey.

“Maybe you’re not ashamed of what you did, but I am. Do you even realize what you’re doing to these women and _your own_ goddamn children?” Alexander’s voice began to climb in volume as he thought of the pain, sickness, and worry that every one of them, including himself, had to go through to be alive right now. “I told you that I’ve met all of them and you didn’t even ask how they were.”

“’Ay don’t need ta. They were part of a different life. A different me.”

“You’re living the same life as you were before as I’m living the same one as I did on the island. You just tell yourself that because you abandoned them.”

“’Ay did no such thing. I stayed with them and we had our fun and then it was time for me ta leave. Ya see me boy, you need to get ta most out o’ these women-

He cut off his father’s musing, “people don’t stop existing once you leave their lives. You can’t even admit that you left them in a worse state than when you found them.” It was getting more difficult to keep himself under control. Thank god he only had to stay another hour at most, and the man would be dead in a few years.

James took a large gulp of poison and stared at Alexander with clouding eyes. “That wasn’t a verry nice thing to say. Especilly when I want to give you advice on ‘ow to live.”

“Go ahead. What wisdom do you bestow upon me?” Alexander asked sarcastically.

“Family, me boy, is a fickle mistress. People will tell ya that you can always rely on them, an it’s true ta a point, but they are just more people who will screw you over if you let ‘em. That’s why you need to cut those bastards off before they can burn you.”

While he said this, James’ eyes were blurry, obviously recalling some past events. Even if the man flew into a tangent of how his own family was abusive or how his sister died in his arms or something, there was no way Alexander could sympathize with him enough to forgive him. Your past may mold you, but it’s your actions that define who you are. At least his father will be a dead piece of shit soon.

“It’s better to light your own match. And those people, your family, are not worth anything, but what they can do for you.”    

Alexander took a deep breath and stared into his father’s eyes. “Alright, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? Seriously, what the fuck? What makes you think you can speak about these women and your own fucking children like that? Do you not realize that you’re talking to one of your _own_ goddamn children?”  

The man straightened and a pair of matching blue-violet eyes bore into him. “You should watch your tone with me.” The voice came out in a low growl and his hand moved to encase the neck of the liquor bottle.

He’ll be dead soon. His liver will shut down.

“Why?” Alexander challenged. He could feel the anger rising through him along with an almost instinctive search for any available energy. The track lights dimmed, and the room dropped slightly in temperature.

His biological father didn’t notice and instead gripped the bottle even tighter. “Because I am your father an’ you should respect me.”

“I don’t, ‘I’m your father’ isn’t a sufficient reason!” Alexander matched his father’s growling voice. “You’re right that family can screw you over, you’re living fuckin’ proof, but it doesn’t mean all of them will.” Tension was thick in the steadily cooling air, and from the corner of his eye, Alexander could see Master flickering in and out of existence from a darkened portion of the room.

“I am your father an’ you should listen ta what I say! I’m older an’ wiser.”

“You left all of your wives in debt which lead to the death of your first wife and one of your kids, and now and your second wife is inching towards her own deathbed,” Alexander deadpanned. He didn’t dare bring up the lasting emotional effects on everyone involved and the many times _he_ almost died.  

His father emptied one bottle completely and went to open another. “Doesn’t matter. Besides,” James went on, “you need to start looking yourself. I’ve seen you around those Schuyler children, an’ from what I’ve seen, the middle one should be easy enough. Could probably get the olda one too.”

“Those are my best friends,” Alexander said through gritted teeth.

He was ignored, “Ah suppose you could do the same with that sinner ya got. I would advise to keep that quiet though. Don’t want a ruined reputation.”  

“I’ve gotten better goddamn parental guidance from death himself, you self-absorbed piece of human shit!” Alexander shouted. At that, Master became more visible and began his approach until Alexander shook his head. The man would be dead soon of a destroyed liver, and it was time for Alexander to go anyway. It wasn’t worth the trouble. He got up and walked towards the door and ignored the man’s ongoing tangent.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy!”

Alexander steadied himself by cycling the thought of his father’s impending death in his head. After a moment he turned to his father and said, “goodnight and please don’t speak to me again. Go fuck yourself.” It was getting late and he just wanted to be home.

He didn’t expect his father to block his way out. “Yer not going anywhere. Sherry will be back soon an’ we can get back to talkin’.”  

“You insulted my friends, family, and boyfriend. I’m leaving.” When Alexander tried to move around his father, James mirrored him.

“Ya can’t leave yet; your mother wants ta see you.”

A chill went through Alexander causing his core to grow cold even if his heart sped up. “My mother is dead. I was in her arms when she died. That lady is not and will never be my mother.” His voice was shaky, and the repressed anger began to surface to the point where even the mantra proclaiming the man’s death wasn’t enough to beat it back down.

“I married Sherry an’ that makes you her stepson. Don worry, she can be a better mother,” James slurred.

Enough energy swirled from the dimmed lights and cooling air to be readily available to Alexander. “Excuse me?”

“I loved Rachel, but she taught ya that sin was okay an’ it’s not. No multiple partners or any o’ that shit with yer boyfriend.”

If he were being honest, Alexander didn’t even remember doing it, much like with Adams. But one moment he was standing in front of a stupid piece of shit and then he was standing in front of a stupid piece of shit who was on the floor holding his jaw in pain. But it wasn’t enough. Energy from his surroundings pooled at his fingertips and the room around them began to flicker. The seventies style décor was replaced by an old image of a withered home that was made of decaying wood and had a mostly dirt floor. The room became cold, stiff, and stagnate as if it had not been aired out in sometime.

“You have no idea what she had to do to keep us alive,” Alexander said in a low voice that echoed through the empty structure. He made the air in the room feel heavier as scents of sickness and decay began to reach the senses.

“What’s going on?” James asked. His eyes darted around as he tried to stand and steady himself. “How are we here?”

“We’re here because I want us here.” They weren’t actually back in that home, it was just a memory that he was able to bring to the present with enough emotion and energy. Alexander couldn’t keep the illusion up for long, but hopefully long enough time to scare a drunken man. “So you can feel what we felt after you were gone.”

The smells got stronger and from somewhere in the house faint moaning pain and a child crying could be heard. “What are you doing? How is this possible?!”

Once again, Alexander doubled down on the overwhelming pressure and stench of the room. His earlier gathered energy ran out and now he had to draw from his own supply. It was unimaginably draining, but he held firm in his demeanor. As James looked around at the old dwelling, Alexander noticed headlights in the driveway and the sound of a car door closing. He couldn’t keep up the charade with the smells, noises, and rooms, but with the last bit of energy he could spare, he put on one last show.

The front door opened.

“Rachel?” James said, alarmed.

From the door stood the image of Rachel Hamilton, looking as she did days before her death. Bags under her eyes, flushed skin, and thin enough to have sunken cheeks and bulging eyes. “James are you alright?” the woman said.

“This…this isn’t possible. You’re dead.”

Rachel frowned and took a step through the doorway, “how much have you had to drink tonight?”

James backed away from his wife and bumped into Alexander. He jumped when he hit his son, but then grabbed his shoulders harshly. “What are you doing? What is this?!” James yelled, shaking Alexander frantically.  

“James! What are you doing? You’re hurting Alexander!” Rachel yelled.

She tried to separate the two, but James pushed her and knocked her back a few feet. “Don’t touch me, demon!” Then he turned back to his son, “you better tell me what you’re doing and how you’re doing it, you little devil.”

Through the frantic shaking Alexander couldn’t do much because he had drained most of his energy in keep up the images. Master would have to give him some so he could make it home tonight. It was worth it, though. For once in the man’s miserable life he had been scared for what he’d done even if he wasn’t sorry for it. It was nice considering his liver will shut down soon.

“Why won’t you answer me!?”

“Stop, you’re hurting him!”

“I already told you to fucking shut up, whore!”

The shaking made him groggy and Alexander still felt so drained. Drained from the horrible last few days. Drained from emotions. Drained from speaking. Just…drained from life. When black began to swarm his vision, he knew that it was time to drop the act, but James didn’t stop to notice that the woman standing next to him wasn’t a ghost anymore.

Blearily, he wondered where Master was and if they were finally going to let Alexander die like this. With one last move before he could pass out, Alexander placed a hand on his father’s neck to try to push him off. As soon as he made contact, the man stopped, and suddenly Alexander felt a burst of energy coming from somewhere.

And it felt so _fucking_ good.

After days of exhaustion it only took an instant for the energy to sing new life into his blood, almost as if being struck by lightning. It electrified every part of his body and for the first time in a while, he felt _a l i v e._

_So Fucking Alive._

Alexander didn’t want it to end. And why should it? His father put so much pain into others, why not make him feel like everyone he’s ever screwed over? With the new power flowing through him, he could probably do it too. Make his lungs fill up so he coughed and coughed and coughed as he wheezed to try to breathe until he drowns on land. Make him feel the nausea, heat, and all-consuming drained feeling of being so close to death, but not quite there.

The energy flow only stopped when James collapsed and the two broke apart. In a moment that was only instinctual, Alexander reached for his father’s wrist to try to get a little more of a buzz.

“Oh my god!” Sheryll screamed.

It was enough to snap him out of his desires and retract his hand. At the same time Sheryll ran to James’ side while Alexander tried to straighten himself up.

“Rashel…” James slurred. He was slumped on the ground and his eyes were half lidded and slightly rolled back.

“James? James? Are you alright?” Sheryll said as she felt his head and tried to get him to focus.

From his spot a few feet away, Alexander observed them as he caught his breath. “He drank a lot tonight.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m going to put him to bed. He’ll be better from the morning.” She didn’t look at Alexander as she spoke and sounded resigned. Sheryll tried to put his arm around her neck and help him stand, but the man was dead weight.

With a sigh, Alexander went to the other side of the man and helped carry him to their shared bedroom. In truth, neither of them deserved the small kindness, but his body and brain were too swarmed with life to sit still and do nothing.

He stood and watched her tuck the man in lovingly and followed her back out to the kitchen. “Thank you for helping me,” Sheryll said with an exhausted smile. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Fine. Don’t you have groceries?”

“Oh, right. I’ll go grab them and we can chat, I’ll be a moment dear.”

Alexander waited for a small time, but then he started to tap his feet and felt his hands shake. And oh god, what did he just do? His heart thrummed and he found that he suddenly needed more oxygen to be able to function. As he breathed everything went into greater focus than it was supposed to, like his eyes went from four times magnification on a microscope to one hundred times. And everything was _so_ blindingly bright.

He gripped the kitchen counter to try to keep his balance, but his hands partially went through it. Footsteps sounded like low drum beats and when Alexander faced the wall separating the kitchen and outside world, he saw Sheryll stumble into the house.

She would come into the kitchen and see him having a half panic attack and phasing through solid objects. Not good. She’d probably be in disbelief at first, but then accept what her eyes were telling her. She’d call him a monster, demon, witch, or sinner because of his powers and once she grasped what was happening, she may get the (correct) idea that he did something to James.

And he _did_ do something terrible to James. Stole his energy. Drained his life force to fuel himself after he put up an abhorrent fabricated illusion of his mother. Sheryll was getting closer and Alexander’s heart beat so loud he could hear it in his ears, and he could feel his face becoming scalding hot. His limbs just couldn’t stop shaking.

Sheryll was getting closer to him by the minute and in a split-second decision, Alexander flung himself into the kitchen cabinets which took him through the wall. He fell onto some grass but recovered quickly and sprinted to a nearby forest. He didn’t know how long he ran literally through the trees before he collapsed.

The ground was blessedly cold even through his blasting heartbeat. Alexander curled into himself as his body shook in the dirt. A black fog started to drift over him and soon it condensed into a liquid, and then the solid mass of Master. “That was quite impressive.”

“Thanks.”

Master floated upside down into Alexander’s view. “What bothers you? You did something marvelous.”

Alexander met Master’s eyes, “marvelous? I did something fucking terrifying. I drained him of his energy! I could have killed him with Sheryll in the room! She was also wearing my own mother’s _fucking_ skin! Where the hell were you?! Why didn’t you stop me?” Somewhere in the middle of his questions his voice broke and he began to sob.

“I considered it,” Master paused and righted himself to be laying on the ground with him. “I wanted to see what you would do. You did not disappoint. Very creative solution to your problem.”

“I almost killed him, and you thought that was a proper path for me to go down?” Alexander’s body filled with tremors because it couldn’t decide if it was hot or cold. And that’s when everything went into hyper focus and his stomach turned. “I’m going to be sick.”

Mercifully, Master placed a cool hand on Alexander’s forehead which caused him to calm down as energy flowed out of his body. His caregiver relaxed when he visibly looked better, and grinned fondly at his charge, “you took on more than you can handle, as always. Understandable however, it does feel better when taken from the source. You appear to have improved.”      

True, his temperature finally stabilized and the pressure of twenty atmospheres weren’t on his shoulders anymore, but his mind still felt too awake. “Bodily sure, but what the fuck am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to justify this shit to the others?” Not just the sucking of the life force, but the other shit too. Ditching his life to run a fool’s errand for days, scaring James for the fun of it, and draining him like a vampire and wanting to keep going.

“You do not need to.”

“Of course I do! I just did the exact thing that I assured them I wouldn’t do. How can they trust me to be around them? How can I trust myself? I almost killed him.”

“Yes, you did. An interesting technique to do so. Targeting a specific organ, I should use that sometime,” Master said absentmindedly.  

“I did what?”

“You didn’t realize? You took from the whole body yes, but the liver was heavily drained. You are truly remarkable in your versatility and ingenuity.” 

Alexander froze and took a deep breath, “what’s going to happen to him?”

“Shortened lifespan.”

“By how much?”

Master’s eyes blinked out of existence and reappeared. “It relies on how much alcohol he consumes.”

“He’s a goddamn alcoholic. He’ll probably be dead tomorrow morning.”

“So?”

“Humans aren’t supposed to kill other humans, you know that.”

His caretaker tilted his head and kept a blank face. “Are you sure? Humans kill all the time for the name of a law or a government. Your soldiers are celebrated for the slaughters they commit.”

“I don’t need a lesson on the morally grey right now!” His throat began to grow sore from the combination of screaming and crying. “Do you not understand that I’m upset over this?”

“I do; however, I want you to understand that you need not justify your actions to me, your friends, or yourself.”

“That’d be a nice sentiment if I did something minor, but this? It’s not right. I went back on my word and I let my emotions damage someone.”

“So? You’re learning what you’re capable of, and it’s not like he’ll be missed.”

“You think he deserved it?”

“It matters not to me, what is your view?”

James was a huge piece of shit for almost as long as he’d been in Alexander’s life and probably for all the time he wasn’t in the picture. But did he deserve it? Does anyone deserve it? Perhaps the few, the rapists and child molesters and such. The people who have no chance at being redeemed or become better. What was the cut off though? “It doesn’t matter what I think,” Alexander responded with resolve, “because it’s wrong.”

“Marie, Geoff, and Analyn would disagree,” Master countered once more.

“That shouldn’t matter. _You_ don’t get involved in the affairs or concerns of humans, so I shouldn’t either. I must remain unbiased.”

“You’re not me,” Master said with affection. He ruffled Alexander’s hair and the boy swatted his hands away with a huff. “I apologize for not coming to your aid in a timelier manner. I wanted to see if you could handle the situation, as a growth moment. To begin the standard separation of dependency all offspring goes through.”

Alexander wiped the salt water from his eyes and straightened his back. “You think I can’t handle a delicate situation? Is that a challenge?”

Master laughed deeply, “in a way. Don’t take it too seriously, please. I enjoy that you still need my guidance.” Master’s face was soft in a way to clearly convey tenderness for his charge. “What would you like to do now?”  

It’d been a long couple of days, and even though his mind and body hummed with activity, his emotions shill felt shot. If his family asked him questions about where he’d been or what he’s done (he hoped they wouldn’t ask that) it’d still be nice to have their comfort. “I want to go home.”

 

In an instant Master transported them back to Mt Vernon, and thankfully they were inside the house instead of at the door. It wasn’t too late at night, but he didn’t want to disturb the family celebration for the holiday. Lafayette told Alexander that last year, Martha made George all the foods that he normally wasn’t allowed to have per doctor’s orders. Stuff that’s high cholesterol and fat like chocolate covered bacon, homemade ice cream, sausage, butter mashed potatoes and a hell of a lot more.

When Alexander adjusted to his surroundings, he noticed that the house was quiet save for the Tv at a low volume in the living room. He took a deep breath and walked in to face his family, only to find Lafayette solely watching the box solemnly.

His brother didn’t even notice when he walked into the doorway. “Hey Laf, what’s been going on?”

Lafayette perked up slowly and didn’t jump from the couch and tackle him in a hug like he’d been expecting. “Nous were worried about you, frère.”  

Alexander tentatively sat next to him on the couch and purposely left a small distance between them. “I know, I just had to do a couple things by myself.”

“You should have called.”

“I know,” Alexander paused and looked at the Tv for the first time. A Life Time movie, of course. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t. It all just happened so fast. What went on here? Why isn’t Martha and Mr. Washington down here with you?”

“Mr. Washington,” Lafayette started with a frown, “got a call earlier tonight from John.”

“Laurens?”

“Custis.”

It took a moment for Alexander to remember who he was. He’d only met Martha’s son a handful of times on account of him finishing up college. So far, it’s taken him six years to get his bachelor’s degree in counting. “It didn’t go well?” Alexander guessed.

“Non.” Not a surprise, most of what he’d heard about Jacky was that him and George didn’t get along. They always argued about money, his college, and his choice to get married at the age of nineteen.

Alexander had a general distaste of him knowing that he didn’t take his opportunity at higher education seriously and that he hated having George as a father (how could anyone? He’s one of the greatest men alive). But he hoped that George and John would still be able to connect in the two years the younger man had left on this Earth. “Anything specific?”

“They fought about the usual and before Jack hung up, he said that he would never allow papa to see his child.”

Oh shit. “His wife is…”

“Enceinte, oui.”

Another child that would never know their father. “What happened after?”

“The mood was ruined, and papa decided to sleep early and mère followed. We didn’t get to eat. It would have been nice to have you here with us.”

“I know.”

“That way papa wouldn’t have felt like he lost two sons.”

The words sent a jolt of pain through his heart. Alexander never wanted George (or any of his family) to feel hurt because of him. “I wish I was here instead of with James.”

“The day was not well with you?”

“Nope. It was a disaster. James might be dead by the end of the week,” Alexander admitted.

Lafayette gasped, “what did he do to cause Mushroom to make that choice?”

“Not just what he did, but what I did too,” Alexander said, staring at his hands. It had felt so good, taking the energy, even if it was wrong. “And I’m sorry for what I did to him, and that I wasn’t here.” He brought his legs up onto the couch so he could curl into a small ball like he had been in the dirt. “I really am sorry.”

Lafayette sighed, shifted closer, and hugged Alexander tight. “I understand and apologize for my harsh words. It was a hard day for all. You smell rotten and you’re covered in filth, but I adore you still.”

Alexander snorted and returned the hug, “thanks Laf, I adore you too.”  

“Do you need to speak about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow, not tonight. Let’s just watch the movie for a little bit.”

“Oui.”

For once, Alexander sat and let the movie play without rewriting it in his head. If some middle-aged old woman believed that the ageing alcoholic in the story could beat his vices and get back together with his too understanding wife, then hey, he could believe that for a second too. It was better than the alternative, so why not let the story have a happy ending for once?

They were walking to their rooms after the movie finished when Lafayette smacked himself in the head. “I forgot, a package came for you while you were away. Martha placed it in your room.”  

Alexander almost blurted out ‘what package?’ because he completely forgot about the thing Master ordered for Father’s Day. With any luck it could actually be something that George would enjoy and, at least partially, make up for Alexander not being present. He said thank you and goodnight to Laf, and rushed to his room to open the box, only to still when he saw what was inside.

Somewhere that ghostly prick was probably laughing to himself.

But it’d have to do, so Alexander got out a sharpie to fix the gift. He rewrapped it in the box and placed it in his backpack to bring with him to school the next day.

His friends and frenemies were a mix between excited, angry, and relieved to see him return. John practically body slammed him into a hug, Peggy gave him a nice punch in the arm, and Angelica took him by the shoulders and yelled, “what the fuck was so important that _you_ of all people missed school?!”

The tight hold brought him back to yesterday when his father had gripped him right before he- “Get off me!” Alexander yelled and pushed her away. He also backed off and covered his shoulders with his hands. If he accidentally took energy from Angelica, he’d never forgive himself. The mood of the group immediately shifted to concern from the desperate tone of voice. “Sorry Ange, I have bruises there,” he said quietly.

Angelica’s eyes locked in on his shoulders and didn’t leave that spot when she spoke. “Its fine,” she said in a tone of voice that suggested it was _not_ fine. “Do you want to tell us where you’ve been?”

He appreciated his friend’s caution when broaching the situation, and none of them looked afraid. “Well, I was in New York, Hawaii, and the Philippians for a couple of days and I found out that I have four half siblings.”

Alexander told them a sanitized version of what he went through on his last adventure. He omitted some of the more personal details of each of the women’s stories and didn’t talk about their financial situations. He also didn’t mention his one deceased half-sister, no use in bringing down the mood. “At the end of the night I was at my biological father’s house and we fought, and I left.”

“And that’s it?” Peggy skeptically asked.

All he had to do was rub his bruised shoulder, and the rest of the group let the question stay unanswered. For now. He’d have to tell them eventually, especially since Lafayette knew something went wrong, but Alexander wanted to think about everything first.

The package in his bag felt as if it weighed a hundred kilograms and kept Alexander nervous for his first day back in school. Finally, the end of the day came too quick and he excused himself from his friend group to help George with his packing up paperwork and routine office check. He’d seen his foster parents briefly in the morning, but Martha had to rush out to deal with an emergency at work and George kept a wide distance.

Alexander walked into the office area and was only acknowledged by Nelson, who smiled broadly. He waved at Nelson and knocked on the door to George’s private office. “Hello sir, do you need any help with anything?”

The man almost looked normal, but Alexander had been around him too long and knew better. It was his eyes that gave away how tired he was along with his slightly slumped posture. George glanced up for a second before returning to the papers he had in his hand. “I should be fine here by myself.”

A clear dismissal. There was a part of Alexander that told him he was stupid for trying to give George the gift, but his guilt for yesterday and his longing to have the older man’s acceptance won out. Instead of turning out of the office, he stepped in and closed the door softly.

“Alexander, you don’t have to stay. I’m fine with this paper work.”

It took only a moment to walk to his desk and search through his bag for the brown box. “Take this,” Alexander blurted out eloquently.

One of George’s bushy brows raised as he opened the box. Inside was a coffee mug that read ‘world’s best dad’ but Alexander had crossed out the word dad and wrote ‘principal’ next to it in swirled cursive. George smiled softly as he looked down at the mug.

Alexander swallowed and looked away from his father. “I know it’s a tad unprecedented, but I got this for you, and do you know how hard it is to find something that says world’s best principal? And I know that the marker will come off in the wash, but if you would like I could just rewrite it once it starts to fade, or you could just say Lafayette got it for you if anyone asked. Not that I expect anyone to question who exactly got it for you because they would assume it was Lafayette. I don’t mind, really. In fact, if you don’t like it, I won’t feel offended if you throw it out. Really, I won’t. Not everyone wants a cup like that and-“

“Son,” George said as he placed his hand so gently on Alexander’s shoulder it didn’t irritate his bruises. “Thank you.” His voice was raw and honest.

“I’m glad you like it…sir.” Alexander desperately wanted to call the man father, but he couldn’t get it out of his throat. Not so soon after what he just went through with his biological one, but maybe one day he’ll be able to.

George withdrew his hand and placed the mug on his desk with care. “Would you like to sit and help me with some of this paper work?”

“Of course, George.”

 

Alexander stood proudly next to George as they looked at their accomplishment. It didn’t take them too long, and now there was a new shelf in his room that currently only held one tiny clay mushroom. It’s two weeks late, but Master finally had a place to put material possessions that were given to him, or those that he takes.

Since giving George his gift, it seemed that he always went out of his way to have more bonding time, as Martha and Master would call it, with Alexander. It was nice to get this much attention outside a work setting, even if it still felt a little odd. George used the damn cup nearly every day at the office to the point where the marker had started to fade.

“It looks pretty good, he might fill it up though,” Alexander commented.

“Then we’ll build another,” George said proudly.

He had a feeling he’d be doing a lot more of these handyman activities with George from now on. “Hopefully next time we won’t have to patch a hole in the wall too,” Alexander snorted.

George laughed and placed a light hand on his shoulder, “son, as long as your mother doesn’t find out, we can punch as many holes in the wall as we need to.”

They admired their work for a moment longer before cleaning up the space and George left to clean himself up. Alexander was going to do the same when his cell phone rang flashing James Hamilton’s caller ID.

He was going to scream at James to stop calling him when he heard a sobbing Sheryll. “Hey Sheryll, sorry about running out of the house, I just couldn’t-“

“He’s gone,” Sheryll wailed.

“What?”

“He was drinking last night like usual, even though he hadn’t been feeling well for the last couple of days. When I woke up in the morning, I tried to shake him, but he didn’t move, and-and.” She broke down before she could finish. Alexander tried his best to console her over the phone, but her wails went on for well over five minutes. “And just when I found out I was pregnant!”

And oh fuck, there it is. Alexander stilled and choked on his breath. She continued to cry as Alexander thought of this recent development. It was at least partially his fault that James was dead, and another child would be fatherless. At least for this half sibling, James had a good excuse to be absent.

The call ended when Sheryll said she had to meet with the funeral director, and she’d text him the information later. The woman would have a new thing to cry about once she looked at the state of her finances too. Her and the unborn child were probably going to be a constant in his life for a number of years.

Alexander thought of the other women and knew that he’d have to at least inform Analyn of the state of her former husband. It’d be a good time to deliver her some medicine so she could live a bit longer. Geoff would probably like to know as well, and he really wanted to meet his other half sibling while he was there. And while he was out making rounds, it would be nice to see Maria and Gianna. Perhaps this time he could bring George, Martha, or Laf so they could meet them all too. It took a moment to realize just how big his family had grown.

All from one asshole who screwed women over and couldn’t keep it in his pants.  

He could visit all of them right now, but he may as well wait for the funeral arrangements and more information from Sheryll. Alexander also needed to have a talk with Master about his growing impulse to get energy directly from living things. He should also probably tell Peggy about his new tricks and teach a few to her. It’d also be beneficial to talk to his friends and family to figure out plan for this situation. But for now, Alexander needed to shower and get ready for his date tonight with John.

After all, life and death will always go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry that this took so long, college and all that (blame geology). But, in a way I’m glad it did because the original confrontation with Alexander and James was a lot shorter and less fun. I still don’t think it’s too good, as I’m not great at writing ‘action’ scenes, but it’s better than Alexander sapping his energy and running through a wall to get away (with no vision of Rachel). I hope you guys liked Alexander giving Wash that cup because that scene was the reason for this three part not sequel’s existence.
> 
> I could probably write more for this Au, but I like the ending where it is. Hope y’all enjoyed the trip and thank you for reading!


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